To be King
by Dentelle-noir
Summary: AU. 3x4. The Barton tribe was exiled from there home, forced to live in the bowels of the jungle by the usurping Winner Tribe. But they will get their revenge. The successor of their tribe will grow strong and hard, and he will take back their homeland.
1. Part 1

**To be a King   
Part 1**  
_by: Dentellenoir_  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: Shonen-ai, Revenge, Tribal-war  
Fandom: G-wing  
Pairings: 3x4, 1x2  
Genre: AU, Adventure.

**Summery:** The Barton tribe was exiled from their home, forced to live in the bowels of the jungle by the usurping Winner Tribe. But they will get their revenge. The successor of their tribe will grow strong and hard, and he will take back their homeland.

Leia Barton softly pet the crown of the youngest Barton. Her tribe may have been exiled, persecuted; sent to live in the bowels of the jungle after her beloved husband's death at the hands of Amar Winner, but she had her weapon now.

Hand picked by Dekim as successor, Trowa was the last to be born under his rule and she would be sure he grew to be the avenger of their people. She would take it upon herself to raise him to be the strongest warrior of them all, and he would take back their lands Dekim had stolen for them. The battle would be bloody, but that worked for her. He would be a King.

XxX

Trowa swung, hand over hand, into the decrepit ancient tree to stand overlooking the jungle, then let out a savage roar. Buzzards and Red Hawks took off with a scream, fleeing the young Barton tribe warrior. 

With a smirk, Trowa dropped back down to the jungle floor, kicking up dust as his small legs and arms impacted with grace. His mother would be proud when his war cry would echo off the walls of the jungle. But for now, he had to train. Today he would run, straining his legs as far as he could, and then run back to the Barton keep. His older siblings had to be out hunting; how he wished he could go with them more often, but when he had asked, Leia had threw him to the ground in her rage. He had to train. He must be the strongest, hardest warrior. He would be a king.

The trees flew past him as he pumped his legs against the dirt floor, and he vaulted the stream with one motion. He knew he would have to turn soon--Winner territory was coming up, and if mother found out he was near enough...

Trowa smirked. So what if he did go in? What mother didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

Trowa never slowed, dropping into the valley and hurtling over rocks until he clambered up the other side. A thrill rolling up and down his spine at the knowledge that he was in forbidden territory. Almost instantly, though, Trowa was awestruck. Here, the trees dropped their fruit onto the jungle floor, untouched and free for picking. There was no one fighting for each morsel, and, without a second thought, with the cunning and force cultivated inside him since birth, Trowa dove into the trees, moving over the lushly covered branches and wrenching fruit from their branches and tearing into their soft flesh with savage intensity.

The grasping Winner clan left fruit to rot in the trees at the edges of their territory while his people were forced to go hungry night after night until just enough scraps to keep them living came to their lips. They were a tribe of the strong because of it; you had to kill to eat, and kill they did. Sometimes turning on each other just to get the hunting spoils. All of it was the fault of Amar winner and his tribe. Trowa vowed again that he would grow, and he would crush them.

Trowa saw a mouse scurry beside his natural presence in the tree, and he smashed his little fist into it, grazing it enough to make the mouse fall to the ground with a twitch. Yes, he would make his mother so happy when he grew and slit the throat of Amar Winner himself, and let his mother watch the usurper's dying body twitch, just like the mouse.

A light tinkling giggle made him whip his head around to spot an obviously blond head of hair crawling through the grasses. A Winner--all of their tribe except a few warriors had hair as golden as the sun. He was told that they were all fierce warriors, bloodthirsty traitors, who betrayed Dekim. Leia would attack one on sight, if they wandered near enough for her to strike. Trowa knew that he should too... but he was in their territory, there could be more lying in wait for the trespasser to strike.

This child seemed no older than 8, (One whole year younger than Trowa himself), and as such was very little threat to him, a great warrior of the Barton tribe. The little boy had no adults following him that Trowa could see, and the boy himself was thin and looked so much like a girl that Trowa second guessed his first impression. Perhaps it was a female, whom were more cunning and traitorous than men, as Trowa had seen daily. The Barton tribe was almost completely females; all the outcast wives of Dekim and his followers. Most of the warriors loyal to Dekim died in the battle leaving only the women and young children. Trowa himself was the youngest. Alex and Muller, the two oldest boys in the tribe, hated him the most for it, since he was honored as Dekim's heir, instead of them. Thanks to those two, his skills in cunning, fighting, and speed had been sharpened--they were almost 6 years older than him and twice the size as Trowa had ever been, but neither of them had any sort of intelligence. Trowa had learned to use it to his advantage. Leia had taught him much.

The little Winner child kept coming closer and closer to the tree Trowa was in, crawling on his hands and knees, as if trying not to be seen, but completely failing, since his bright blond head was obvious through the sparse upper grass. He needed to learn to get closer to the ground...and to crawl lightly and soundlessly... the child could be heard coming from miles away. But there was no one except Trowa around to hear him.

Curiosity and that same spark of the forbidden called Trowa to slowly creep down the tree, moving as silent as a snake, until his feet had touched the ground. If the Winner tried anything, he had a height advantage. But the boy didn't even notice. It was obvious this boy had not yet began warrior training, or he was horrible at it. If Trowa wished, he could have killed him 5 times over by now.

The boy entered the clear area around the roots of the tree and sat, resting his head against the trunk and looking up to the sky with a happy smile. Trowa was mere feet away, a knife at his belt, and obviously bigger, stronger, and more aware than the other. He should kill the boy and get home; his mother would be overjoyed at one less Winner. But the boy turned his head, and spotted Trowa with a start. Instead of calling for help, or grabbing for a weapon, the boy did something Trowa would never forget.

He smiled. Bright and eager, "Hi! I'm Quatre!" he said, a voice as happy and lifting as the little giggle he heard earlier. "I was playing hide and seek with Duo, and I seem to have won, because even I can't find myself!"

Trowa stared and loosened his grip on his knife.

"Do you want to play with me?" The little Winner asked. He began to look around for something, Trowa did not know. Trowa had always known 'playing' as fighting or wrestling, he never pretended or played games like some of the girls of the tribe sometimes did. Leia never let him.

When the blond came upon the mouse Trowa had hit in the tree, he stopped his futile search to tenderly take up the mouse, "Oh, look! The poor thing is hurt! See if we can help it! The poor thing was probably only trying to get some dinner and attacked by something twice its size. Isn't that horrible?" The boy, Quatre, said to Trowa. He picked up the squirming little mouse into his little hands and pet it until it calmed down and let Quatre look at the wound that produced the blood matting its dirty grey fur.

Trowa had never seen anything so gentle; the boy calmed the animal easily, like Trowa did with the leopard clans that roamed around his home. Trowa took a few steps forward and, when Quatre made no move to attack him, he knelt down on the dirt with the boy to see what he was doing to the mouse. For the first time he could remember, Trowa felt bad about hurting something. It was making the blonde boy look so sad.

Quatre couldn't do anything for the thing, of course, he was only 8 and his sister the healer had yet to teach him anything. All he could do was calm and hold the poor thing until it stopped moving all together. With teary eyes, Quatre moved over to the grasses and dug a little pit to lay the mouse in, the curious boy watching him the whole time without a word. Quatre sent up a little prayer, and wiped his tears away.

"It was just a mouse. Why would you cry?" The other boy broke his silence with such a curious question.

"Isn't it sad, just a little? To see something so harmless die? A mouse doesn't kill other animals or anything, it's harmless. Isn't it sad to see it suffer?" Quatre asked back.

The other boy did not answer, seeming to take such a simple question to heart.

Quatre huffed, "Won't you at least tell me your name?" he asked, moving in closer to the boy with a disarming smile.

"Trowa" the other boy whispered, as if it were hard to give out such information.

Quatre moved closer still until their knees were almost touching, then with a wicked smile, Quatre lashed out to pat Trowa's arm and scrambled back with glee, "Tag, you're it!"

Trowa watched the boy dance around with glee, completely confused. And why would he hit him to weakly? If he was going to try and attack, the boy should have made it worth his effort.

"What are you doing?" Trowa asked blandly, watching the boy hop in place like a frantic jackrabbit.

"I tagged. You're it. I run, you chase, and you try to tag me back. Then I chase you!" Quatre answered, not fazed by having to explain such a simple game to another child. Trowa lifted an eyebrow blankly.

"Why."

Quatre stopped hopping and stared back, "Because it's fun. I guess we can play something else if you'd rather. How about this one," Quatre said, shaking his hand three times to throw out a flat hand. Trowa stared on blankly.

"How about a race to the top of the tree, then?" Quatre suggested again. This time, Trowa nodded and got up.

Delighted, Quatre called out the ready, set, go, and then grappled to get onto the first branch. After a few moments, Quatre felt two strong arms grabbing him around the hips and pulling him straight up into the foliage. Trowa was already high in the tree, his legs wrapped around a sturdy branch like a bat so he hung down enough to pull Quatre up. Quatre admired his strength as, effortless, Trowa brought him up to sit on his perch, not inches away from each other, knees brushing against one another's when Trowa righted himself gracefully.

"I guess you won." Quatre said with a smile, happy to be so high up. Duo and he hardly ever made it to the middle before someone scolded them or they fell. Quatre liked Trowa. He was silent, and seemed cold, but Quatre could tell that he really was gentle by the way he lifted him into the tree as if he were the most fragile of items. Trowa would be a very strong warrior when he grew up, Quatre could tell.

When his father had warriors compete for him, he always gave them a prize. Quatre looked around, and all over himself, and spotted the perfect prize for his new friend. He deftly untied the brightly coloured threads from his weaved bracelet (one of his best so far in his young life) and presented it to Trowa. "For winning the contest, a prize for the worthy warrior!" Quatre declared, copying his fathers words, and then took Trowa's wrist into his lap and tied the bracelet onto him.

Trowa looked at the little weaved treasure and felt something warm and happy well up inside him. He had never had a real friend before, one who would give him something without wanting anything back. But, knowing that nothing was expected, made him want to give him something, a surprise all his own. Trowa knew he didn't have anything pretty like Quatre did, but he did have some bone armor. Little pieces of knuckle tied together to form bead-like strands with the strength of bone. Trowa slid off one link from around his neck and handed it to Quatre, "For the mouse rescuer." He said simply, and handed the gift to a pleasantly surprised Quatre.

Trowa liked the boy very much, more so then anyone in his tribe. Just being around Quatre made him want to smile.

Not knowing what else to do now, Trowa gave Quatre a warning smirk, "I'll beat you to the bottom" and dropped out of the tree like a rock, landing crouched on all fours like a panther ready to strike. Quatre followed a few moments later, much less gracefully, but smiling brighter than the sun, and laughing merrily.

"You need to show me how you do that so well!" the blonde chimed.

Trowa blushed, the praise somehow meaning more coming from Quatre than it ever had from his mother.

A rustling in the grasses nearby had Trowa alert, but he calmed when the familiar slinking black coat of a panther surfaced over the grasses. Quatre hadn't even noticed. This time, instead of smirking at his luck, Trowa frowned at the thought of the blonde being out alone and so unawares.

The panther stalked nearer to the two until Trowa knew she was circling the little clearing under the tree, still unnoticed by Quatre.

Then, Quatre, tired of watching a silent Trowa, pushed him in play. The panther let out a war cry and shot out the grasses to pounce atop Quatre and hiss at the petrified Winner boy.

Trowa clicked his tongue loudly to stop her and set his hand atop the panthers head, petting the crown to ease her off the awestruck blonde. The panther slid to Trowa's side, rubbing her face and cheeks all against Trowa's legs and hands. "HeavyArms, this is Quatre." Trowa introduced, moving to crouch down to level with the still-prone blonde and allow the panther to smell him thoroughly and rub her scent all over him as well.

After getting over his fright at nearly being eaten by a cat as big as he was, Quatre tentatively touched the animal's soft fur and ran his fingers through the shiny black coat. The cat was absolutely beautiful, and Quatre was so close that when the light shone perfectly, he could see the black spots in her black fur, revealing her birth as a freak child of the leopards.

"Quatre, this is Arms," Trowa finished his introduction and gave what seemed to be HIS panther a pat on the head.

"You have a tamed Panther!" Quatre exclaimed, still petting every inch of the beast that he could.

Trowa narrowed his eyes at Quatre's naivety angrily, "of course not. She is not tamed in the least. She and I hunt together and train together. She is my partner, not my pet. She is just as wild as any other panther and would have easily eaten you, if she hadn't trusted my judgment." Trowa snapped.

Quatre's lip trembled at being scolded by a friend, but turned his face to the coat of the cat, running his fingers through her thick fur until he felt better. Trowa had a point, anyway. Quatre had never been cut out to be a fierce and powerful warrior of his tribe. He left that to Heero and Wufei, even though Duo wanted him to train with him. That was why Quatre practiced so hard on his weaving and pottery. It may have been a woman's trade, but he was far more talented at that then running or spotting trouble.

Quatre rubbed HeavyArms' crown, running his fingers across the long jagged shock of white crossing her forehead. Arms nuzzled Quatre's neck affectionately, almost pushing the blonde to the ground with her power.

Trowa felt guilty for upsetting the blonde, but would never apologize for it, so instead he joined Quatre in giving Arms an unsuitable amount of attention, "She'll never forget you, now. She never does." Trowa said truthfully, knowing Arms was memorizing Quatre's scent as they pet her, "You can always tell if a panther is Arms or hostile by her scar. No other panther in the region has any white on their head. I always know Arms from the other animals, even when I only get a glimpse of her." Trowa said, thinking that the small conversation would help cheer up the blonde.

Quatre rewarded his efforts with a glorious smile, taking his hands off of Arms to abruptly launch himself at Trowa, pulling the stunned warrior into his first real hug. Trowa didn't know what to do, didn't know how to respond, or even if he should. But Quatre didn't seem to mind, only moving back to seat himself on his haunches, their knees a few inches closer then even in the tree. For some reason, Quatre's smiles meant everything to Trowa. Trowa easily forgot that Quatre was part of the vicious Winner tribe as he allowed Quatre to teach him games and play with him until the sun was high in the sky.

But when Arms abruptly stood and looked off into the distance, spotting a figure stalking towards them from the Barton Tribe's side of the river, Trowa quickly remembered that Quatre would be killed rather than looked at by a member of his tribe.

Sensing Trowa's fear, Quatre began to look around for the danger as well, but couldn't spot anything until the wind brought over a growling voice, "TROWA!" it called with a snarl. Quatre wanted to hide his friend from whomever was coming. They could not have meant good with a call like that.

Trowa quickly glanced at Quatre and grabbed him, hoisting him up into the tree and demanding he climb as fast as he could. Soon the voice was even closer, and Quatre desperately wanted Trowa to hide with him up in the tree! But he stood at the bottom, waiting.

"Trowa, hurry! Hide with me!" Quatre begged.

Trowa looked up at him from the corner of his eyes, never moving his face to show he was looking upwards, "My mother has come! You have to stay hidden! Do not make a move or a noise until we are gone. She will kill you if she sees you! You are just another Winner to her!" Trowa hissed through a clenched jaw, begging Quatre to head him.

The voice was so close now that Quatre could make out every sound. Trowa moved out from the shade of the tree to meet her away from Quatre's hiding spot.

The fierce slap she gave him echoed through the jungle, shuddering. 

Leia looked down at her son in a rage, Trowa's dead eyes staring back up at her non-pulsed. "How DARE you come into the Winner territory to slack off from your training!" She snarled.

Trowa growled from his place on the ground, the sound echoed by Arms, who was crouched by him. Quatre crossed his fingers and wished the panther would jump at the woman, just to save Trowa from her. But Trowa got up swiftly and squared off, "I was running and got here." Was all he said in explanation.

Leia only snarled and hit him again, the force not enough to move Trowa this time. "Don't come here again... I couldn't bear to lose you, beloved" She then cooed. The words sounding twisted to Quatre's ears, sending chills up and down his spine.

The two Bartons moved away, hopping down into the valley, vaulting over the river, and then back up the other side with grace and skill that Quatre awed. He waited in the tree until Trowa's silhouette was long gone from the horizon. Quatre morosely dragged himself out of the tee after that, disappointed that his friend had never even looked back. 

The bone armor clacked lightly as the wind blew past. Quatre gripped it tightly, moving his eyes from the gift to the horizon. Trowa would've looked back... if he could have. 

XxXxX

"Mother" Trowa asked a few nights later, too scared to bring up the topic any earlier, "Don't you think we should stop raiding the Winner village and killing any we set our eyes on."

Alex and Muller, sitting around the fire that night as well, yelled in outrage, turning on his effortlessly, "You want us to stop avenging our countless losses. They took over Dekim's land, Our Father's rights, Our Father's territory and shunted us survivors out into the wastelands to die!" Alex growled, rounding on Trowa with teeth bared.

Trowa bared his teeth back, squaring his shoulders for the imminent attack from his older brother.

"Trowa is right." Leia declared after a moment, shocking everyone present. 

She looked at her son's bank face, and broke out into a sinister grin, "Good thinking, Trowa. You truly have the mind of Dekim. We should let them forget about us, become soft, and then attack when they least expect us. We can not get anywhere near their keep as is... You're right Trowa... we need to strike out the head and then annihilate the rest." Leia's face turned giddy with joy at her own plans forming in her head. She looked down at Trowa, pinning him with a critical eye, then broke into such a smile that Trowa felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight out.

"Your training will start tomorrow" Leia promised quietly, the light from the fire dancing off her cold expression. 

XxXxXxX

Amar would die by his hands.

Muller tightened the bone armor around Trowa's chest; the strung bones running from built shoulder across a broad warrior's chest and back. At 16, Trowa's hands could crush the skull of an ape, his speed could evade a leopard, and the very jungle trembled at his war cry. Trowa had trained for this moment since the age of 9.

He would infiltrate the Winner keep just long enough to get near Amar, and kill him when no one could see. When the Winners were weak, in grief and without a leader, they would strike and take Dekim's revenge. And take the lands as their own.

Trowa bent down to tighten Arms' bone necklaces himself, no other member of the tribe able to get within three feet of the war cat safely, a fact that made Trowa secretly proud. The repetitive task helped Trowa focus his energies into his mission.

The entire tribe's revenge rested on him. And he would not fail.


	2. Part 2

** b To be a King  
Part 2 /b **  
_ i by: Dentellenoir /i _  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: Shonen-ai, Revenge, Tribal-war  
Fandom: G-wing  
Pairings: 3x4, 1x2  
Genre: AU, Adventure.

**Summery:** The Barton tribe was exiled from their home, forced to live in the bowels of the jungle by the usurping Winner Tribe. But they will get their revenge. The successor of their tribe will grow strong and hard, and he will take back their homeland.

hr 

b Part Two /b 

The Hunting party stalked through the brush, anxious to bag an antelope or perhaps even a Zebra. Each hunter of the 6 member team took up a position in a rough circle, waiting for prey and watching for trouble at the same time. Four of the hunting party were new, no older than 12 or 13 summers. That was why they were hunting with Heero and Duo, the Winner clan's best warrior and tracker respectively.

But despite the strength and instincts of the two seasoned hunters and the extra eyes and ears of the boys, none noticed the stalking presence of the group of leopards until they were surrounded on all sides. The largest cat pounced out into the circle, digging her massive claw into the arm of one of the young hunters. Heero shot out and wrenched the boy from the leopard's grips, landing a swift wound to the beast with his knife to warn her off.

But the scent of blood was in the air.

The beasts pounced out of the grasses and attacked, sinking their jaws into the flesh of the frozen rookies. Duo impaled one with his staff, wrenching the beast off the training hunter. With nothing else to do, Duo moved to protect the huddled youngsters and took stance with Heero, moving defensively around them in a rough circle of protection.

From a tree above the scene, eyes as green as the lush foliage around him, narrowed to take in the scene. He waited. Watching. The leopards took swats at the two predominant warriors, their skills showing as they kept the hissing cats back. But the young hunters were frozen and helpless from fear and were easy prey for the leopards who made it past the warriors. One of the warriors would attack the cat, snatching the young away from its claws before they could drag the child into the forest, but the Warriors were far out matched.

The cats had the Winner's backed up against a tree and were advancing, leaving the hunting party nowhere to run.

Sanguine, the queen of this leopard tribe, crouched low and pounced, taking down Heero in a mass of claws and teeth. Duo screamed, desperate to help the other, but frantically trying to fight off three determined leopards attacking him and the young.

Now was the perfect time to intervene.

Trowa dropped down from the tree with a howl, wrenching out his long jagged knife and diving into the melee, teeth bared. He sunk a kick into one leopard's side and managed to drag his dagger across another's shoulder. He left the other to Duo and moved over to Sanguine. Using all his strength and experience to dig his hands into her neck, he wrenched her off the warrior with one mighty haul, and flung her into a tree with another savage roar that echoed into the very core of the jungle.

Duo delivered a killing blow to one to one of the attackers, and, taking a page out of the book of the stranger, dug his foot into the side of another and kicked it away. Sanguine yowled in anger and leapt into the forest, her defeated pride following her into the underbrush moments after their leader departed leaving the party alone.

Heero was the first to recover, brining his knife up to defend against the tall stranger.

Trowa raised a brow cockily and absently began to twirl his knife around his wrist. "That is not a very good way to say thanks to someone who saved your life."

"Who are you?" Heero demanded, sliding over to cover Duo and the boys while keeping his eye trained on the foreign warrior.

Trowa did not move, but answered anyway, the words flowing from his mouth as easily as they had during hundreds of practices. "My name is Trowa. I left the Barton tribe in hopes of joining with the Winners" to kill your leader and wreak our vengeance, He mentally added.

Heero lifted a skeptical brow, ready to set his knife straight into Trowa's chest, but Heero didn't want the attack to backfire; he had to admit to himself (but no one else) that he did not come out of that leopard match unscathed. Eying up the rival warrior, unharmed from the fight and physically larger, Heero had to admit that he would be... challenging.

Duo seemed to defuse the situation quickly, walking over to the outsider and depositing one bloody hunter-in-training into his startled arms and hefting another onto his own back. The other two young hunters were able to walk and began helping each other straggle back to camp.

Heero took his cue and hefted the slain leopard onto his own back. With a snarl of warning to the stranger, lest he entertain the notion that he was welcome, Heero moved to follow the braided tracker, leading dinner, wounded, and an outsider back home.

Duo was going to hear about this later... 

XxXxX

The whole Winner tribe stopped their daily activities when children came running into the village warning them of the morbid procession. Duo broke through the trees first, carrying the boy with the deep slashes in his calves. Next came the two wounded boys together, then, breaking the tree line in unison (for Heero would not allow the outsider to beat him in) came Heero hauling the leopard and a stranger carrying a badly wounded boy like a rag doll.

Amar flew out of his tent the moment he heard and sent Iria, his healer daughter, out to see to the hunters.

KILL! Trowa's very blood screamed. The disgustingly displayed wealth that the old man dripped attested that he was the backstabbing traitor himself. But Trowa calmed himself within moments. He needed to get close enough to strike, and needed to be trusted enough to allow time for his tribe to attack. He had to keep calm and unobtrusive until his tribe was ready to strike.

While Trowa was centering himself a woman with bright blonde hair tied high upon her head walked over to him without a moment's hesitation and directed him to deposit the wounded boy onto a clean skin and began examining the boy, sparing not a glance at Trowa.

Suddenly, seeing those locks of hair, Trowa's own private fantasy came to mind. He would kill Amar, take back their territories, and set himself as king--then he would find that boy...and perhaps...if the boy didn't hate him too much... Quatre... would still be able to be friends... He desperately wanted to meet the boy again, even under the circumstances.

Trowa was startled out if his most secret musings with Duo's boisterous voice talking to the gathered masses, "He said his name is Trowa. He just came out of nowhere and began to attack the leopards, saving all of our lives. There was this huge leopard on top of Heero and he slashed her, and" Duo dipped down to grab at one of the swarming children to lift him up high as Trowa had Sanguine, "And he flung her off Heero like he was a lion himself! With a ROAR!" Duo imitated.

All the curious little faces turned to Trowa abruptly, peering to get a look at him. Trowa was about to give the fools a lion-like snarl to scare them witless, when Heero moved into flank the children, "He is not one of us." He sneered, "An Outsider, not to be trusted. We will give you payment for your help, but you don't belong here."

Trowa bristled at the clear dismissal. Heero was his biggest obstacle to his plan. The warrior was an outsider himself, from the obviously dark hair and slightly slanted eyes. Those who had been shunned often understood the rules for inclusion better then anyone else. And they rigidly upheld those rules.

Amar, the respected leader, moved to stand between Heero and Duo. He ran his deep blue eyes over Trowa critically, then asked "Tell us who you are, Stranger, and why you are here?"

"My name is Trowa. I left the Barton tribe in hopes of joining with the Winners," he answered smoothly, the same fluid answer ingrained into his tongue from hours and hours of practice. Trowa hoped that his bravery would speak for him; allowing the weak backstabbing king to let him get close enough to complete his mission.

XxXxX

Amar was suspicious. He knew in his gut that the boy had ulterior motives, but he did not know what they were. He was not talking, obviously. He would not allow the boy near the tribe until he knew the warriors true intensions...but with the injury of 4 of their young hunters, Amar knew that the assistance of another trained warrior would be helpful, even if they couldn't trust him completely.

"For your help, I will grant you non-hostility for now. I reserve judgment." Amar declared, his eyes boring deep into the Barton Warrior's eyes-- Eyes which watched back blankly and cold as a beast. Amar did not trust the warrior, but there was wisdom in keeping your enemies close.

The tribe went on about their work, tending to the wounded, finishing daily work, and seeing to the meat. Amar took a seat outside his tent this time, anxiously keeping an eye on the Outsider while he oscillated between watching Trowa for his plans or killing him now.

XxXxX

Duo moved towards Trowa and touched his arm. Trowa flinched violently, preparing for an attack from the boy. Duo's face widened in shock at such a reaction, so he froze in place and explained carefully, "You should come with me to the healer's. She can look at any wounds you got." 

Trowa crossed his arms angrily, mad at causing himself to stick out so much with his reactions, and glared at the braided tracker, "I was not injured." He replied coldly.

Duo lifted a brow, but didn't comment at the obvious scratch across the warriors forearm, and instead turned on his heels and moved towards the skins the healer set up to check on the injured boys.

"I don't like him." Heero said coldly from behind Amar. The king of the tribe had long since learned not to startle at his best warrior's habit of dropping in without a sound. Amar nodded in agreement, watching the foreign warrior stand in the middle of the village and rake his eyes over every inch of their stronghold, as if categorizing its weaknesses and strengths. The man rankled of a spy to Amar's sensitive nature.

It was too much. Damn trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. Amar stood, ready to be rid of the warrior, when something suddenly changed.

Iria called for more poultice, and out from the healer's tent came Quatre, Amar's youngest son. He handed his sister the medicine, and moved to check on his best friend himself when, just short of Duo, he stopped.

The Barton warrior froze his eyes to Quatre, his posture tightening and...if Amar's eyes didn't believe it, he swore for only a moment, that the Barton warrior's cheeks pinked.

XxX

Trowa had to control his breath; there he was, standing just as beautiful as he remembered, with a face and hair and smile exactly as it had been when they met as children. Trowa thought he felt his entire being lurch, just at one look.

Quatre broke into a wide grin, radiating joy, "TROWA!" and without a moment's hesitation ran towards the warrior and wrapped his arms around him unabashed.

Trowa went ridged, not knowing what to do with himself as the object of his most secret fantasies embraced him like a long lost friend, or lover. But after a moment, Trowa closed his eyes and allowed his body to respond, letting his arms wrap around the slim blonde and hold him back, relishing in the warmth rolling off the other boy in waves. Trowa had almost forgotten the sheer joy he felt at just being near Quatre.

A shout of warning came from the forest scout, jarring Quatre out of Trowa's arms. A streak of black was coming barreling through the camp straight towards them. Duo, only a few steps away from Quatre, hefted a spear and aimed just as the panther slowed enough for a shock of white to become distinguishable. Immediately, Quatre rammed himself into Duo with a cry, toppling the spear out of his hands.

The panther rushed the blonde, pouncing on the ground just before Quatre so that her momentum would not hurt a human, and she climbed atop the blonde, rubbing her head all over him to re-mark her, and her human's, territory. Quatre quickly moved his arms up into the soft fur of Arms and began to pet the great cat, smiling as she rolled to her side happily to let him continue to rub her.

A sharp whistle cut through her purring, and Arms moved to her feet in an instant, moving to stand protectively around Quatre as she waited for more instructions from her busy companion. Quatre looked to see Trowa crouched in a battle stance, facing off against Heero (whom he had ambushed to prevent an attack on Arms).

Quatre thought fast, "I'm perfectly aright! Please! Arms won't hurt anyone!"

The name of the beast seemed to make Heero look over, seeing Quatre stroking the huge beast and cuddling her as if she were no more than a toy. Heero looked to Trowa, who was daring him to move against his animal with a snarl.

Duo moved straight in the middle of the face off, breaking off the taunting looks between the two silent warriors and dissolving the fight almost instantly, since both were too proud to goad a rival into a brawl without cause. Duo dragged Heero away from Trowa for a while, while Trowa moved back over to Quatre and his cat.

Running his pale, slim fingers through Arms's thick black coat, Quatre nuzzled her again and looked up straight at Trowa, "She's grown very strong and powerful," Quatre commented, then looked Trowa over critically, "Just like her partner."

Trowa felt his face flame bright red like it hadn't since he was a child! All it took was one look from Quatre and he was reduced to a blushing idiot!

"You look like you could still lift me like I was a feather! I knew you would be an excellent warrior." Quatre raved. And from him, the praise went straight to Trowa's heart, making it beat so fast that he thought it just might break out of his ribs.

"So, did you get into trouble, Trowa? For playing with me, did you get into trouble?" Quatre asked, his eyes sad, remembering having to part with him.

Trowa bristled, caught completely off guard.

Quatre watched him intently, waiting for an answer. After a few moments of scrutiny Trowa simply shrugged tightly.

"You don't remember? You don't remember if you got in trouble or not?" Quatre repeated, skeptical.

Trowa was backed into a corner, he didn't want to tell Quatre how much trouble he got into for going into the Winner lands, but he seemed intent on knowing. "That was seven years ago." Trowa defended, terse under the questions.

Quatre's eyes grew large and his lip began to pout, "Oh... So you don't really remember me much. I understand..."

Panic flared in Trowa's chest at seeing Quatre on the verge of tears because of his callousness. For some reason, it seemed like to upset Quatre would mean the end of the world, and Trowa was desperate to see Quatre's smile even one more time! "Of course I remember you! How...How could anyone not." Trowa replied in a near whisper, unable to keep even his deepest secrets to himself when Quatre asked.

The blonde looked up at him and blinked slowly, then moved his eyes down Trowa's body until it landed on his wrist.

There, frayed, in pieces, and held with more bits of patch-work leather than original weave, was the bracelet Quatre had given him. The idea that Trowa kept it this long, obviously keeping it with him everyday for it to warrant such punishment, made Quatre feel warm inside.

Quatre reached up and ran a finger across Trowa's wrist, just the simple touch enough to stop Trowa's breath again. This was bad.

Trowa had not planned on having to see Quatre so early in his mission, but he just could not concentrate on what he needed to do when the blonde locked those bright open eyes on him. "The bracelet I gave you is in tatters, Trowa." Quatre said with a playful smile, "I'll make you another. If you'd like?"

Trowa began to nod, but then stopped himself, his hand moving to brush the comforting weight on his wrist. He had a lot of memories tied up in that bracelet, memories of a young Quatre, and that day.

Quatre smiled indulgently, as if understanding exactly what was going through Trowa's mind. He tapped Trowa gently to get his attention, then flicked his earring; three little strung together bones dangling from the flesh of his ear.

Trowa realized with a start that they were from the bone armor he had given Quatre back then, too. Quatre still kept his little gift?

"I was able to use the pieces to create something that still worked. I can use parts of the old bracelet in a new one for you? As a gift for helping our hunters. Duo is my best friend, and I don't know what I would do without him. Let me make something for you. I am the best weaver here. My works are traded far and wide." Quatre stated with a little smile of confidence.

Trowa felt his toes curl at the sight, and nodded gently at the blonde's imploring. At that moment Trowa knew that, without a doubt, he would do just about anything for Quatre. And that was a very bad thing, considering his mission was to destroy the Winner tribe and everything they held dear.

Was revenge was the right way...

XxXxX

"I don't like it." Heero grunted again as Duo wrapped some bandages around the worst of his wounds. "The Barton tribe hates the Winners. He wouldn't just up and leave for no reason. He's up to something. He's a spy, or assassin, or-- Damn it Duo, that hurt!" Heero growled, the sounds scaring the scattering of children around them, but making the braided tracker smile.

"Heero, isn't it obvious why he's here?" Duo said with a hum, tying off the bandage proper, and then adding a flamboyant bow to the extra bandages, laughing as Heero continued to brood unnoticing of the little embellishment.

"To kill Amar, signal an attack, and seat himself as king over the Winner territory?" Heero answered point-blank.

Duo pointedly looked to where Trowa stood, following Quatre around like a baby duckling, carrying anything the blonde would give him happily, with the panther tagging along blandly like the caboose. "I think it's obvious why he left the Barton tribe to come here. He's head over-heels in love with Quatre."

"I like that idea even worse." Heero snarled, seeing the possibility unfolding with startling ease.

"Get used to it." Duo answered with surprising authority, "Because from what I can see, Quatre's head-over-heels for him too. I've never seen someone flirt so shamelessly! Look at him go!"

And Heero did, watching as Quatre handed something else to Trowa and touched his arm, hand, wrist, all before dropping his hand and continuing on, smiling brightly. It made Heero want to vomit.


	3. Part 3

**To be a King: ****Part THREE**

_by Dentellenoir_

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Shonen-ai, Revenge, Tribal-war

Fandom: G-wing

Pairings: 3x4, 1x2

Genre: AU, Adventure.

Summery Part 3 of 4. The Barton tribe was exiled from there home, forced to live in the bowels of the jungle by the usurping Winner Tribe. But they will get their revenge. The successor of their tribe will grow strong and hard, and he will take back their homeland.

PART THREE

* * *

That evening the Tribe hunkered down around a main fire and the entrances to their family tents. Everyone shared in the kill from earlier, even though the trip was supposed to bring back much more than one night's meal. The warriors would have to go out again tomorrow for the originally planned five day hunt. They would travel into the grazing lands to bag a few antelope to bring back to the clan. But this time the party would consist of the best hunters, since the boys in training were so injured. Heero of course, did not want to invite the Outsider, (as he chose to call Trowa) but Duo, Quatre, and even Wufei thought that it would be best.

Heero wouldn't be moved until Wufei leant into Heero, cupping his hand around him mouth so no one else could read his lips and said, "I want him to come so that we can keep an eye on him. I don't want to leave him here with only the women, children, and a scattering of men whom he could take down in moments. That's asking for a siege."

Heero insisted Trowa join the hunt.

* * *

Quatre picked up a selection of the scavenged fruits and grabbed some of the meat and walked away from the fire.

Trowa had hunkered himself down against an ancient tree, sitting against it with one arm dangling off his knee, and the other holding his dagger ready to attack. Arms was curled around front of him, her head resting against Trowa's foot so that if she so much as twitched, he would know. It looked almost like he was sleeping, but Quatre knew better. He also knew that Trowa hadn't dared to get his share of the meat. Trowa was easily sitting apart from the tribe, comfortable in his isolation. But Quatre wouldn't let that happen for long.

Quatre folded himself onto the ground beside Trowa, his body facing the handsome warrior, and laid the large leaf holding the berries and fruits on his lap; open for sharing.

"I got your share of the leopard here, Trowa." Quatre said as he offered a large hunk of meat to the warrior. Quatre neglected to mention that it was obviously smaller then what was allotted to the other hunters, since Heero was the one who divided up the meat. No one said anything, of course, happy to have a little bit more to share with their family.

Trowa looked at it, then at Quatre, "Would you like it?" He offered, surprised at his own generosity. Trowa had never offered his share of anything to any of his family. A few times he had given his share to Catherine, one of his cousins, who was often mistreated because of her kindness. Sometimes he wished he really was her brother, as she called him when none of the elders were around. She was also the only one in the tribe he might have even considered marrying, although his mother had made it clear in anecdote that she would die a slow and painful death before she would allow her prize son to be shackled with the 'weakest' woman in the tribe. And while the opportunity to lie with Catherine had come up several times, he had always found a way out of it. It was his duty to reproduce the Barton tribe, and he had, but he could not bring himself to take her. Watching Quatre quietly tend to the sick today had reminded him of her, in a way. Quatre had the same patience, caring, and love about him that Catherine did. And Quatre the same fierce determination and bravery that no one but he seemed to see in Catherine.

Quatre took a berry from the collection on his knees and popped it into his mouth, gently sucking on it to savor the flavor. Trowa's eyes were locked on him, on every move he made and every breath he took. Trowa's throat went dry and his muscles tightened, watching with rapt attention as Quatre chewed daintily then swallowed, the blonde's Adam's apple rolling down then up again with the motion. Trowa felt his blood pooling in his groin with the display. Quatre was certainly NOT like Catherine.

"You know that Heero, Duo, and Wufei are going out on the hunt again tomorrow. They have invited you to come too. I think they could use your help." Quatre said after finishing his berry, delighted to tell Trowa of his inclusion in the plan.

Trowa internally scowled. He had heard that the three most capable warriors were going to be gone. He had hoped he could alert his tribe, slit Amar's throat, and have the village well controlled before they got back and he had to fight them. Being invited along stopped that cold. But to not take the invitation would look extremely suspicious, perhaps even suspicious enough for the three hunters to stay back and watch him from the shadows.

Quatre picked up another berry, and this time, instead of giving Trowa another show, he offered it to Trowa, perching the bright red berry between his thumb and forefinger. Trowa had to resist the urge to take it from his fingers with his teeth so he could taste Quatre's fingers with his tongue. Instead, Trowa reached out slightly shaky fingers to take it from him, his fingers lingering on Quatre's a few moments longer than necessary.

"OW! Heero!!!" Duo bellowed at the stone Heero had been using to sharpen his knife swung right into him.

Trowa and Quatre looked up to see Heero glaring thunderously at the two under the tree, completely oblivious to just missing his blade in favor of Duo's thigh.

Quatre sighed, and pointedly turned his attention onto Trowa. "Heero isn't the easiest to get along with, but he is a good person."

Trowa's eyes narrowed as Quatre praised his enemy. Jealousy bubbled in the pit of his stomach, "Oh? And you know this?"

Quatre giggled merrily, the sound that same light tinkling that had attracted Trowa the very first time they had met, "Of course I do. I know everyone here, and I know he may seem especially prickly, but it's because he's worried about me. Heero is our best warrior; the protector of our tribe. And he's very close to my family. He thinks he needs to protect me." Quatre sighed at that and absently handed Trowa another berry.

"I wish that he wouldn't so much. I'm not as weak as I look. I choose to be so trusting and compassionate because I can't even dream of living life callous and suspicious of everyone I meet." Quatre finished with a warm, open smile for Trowa. "I get to meet so many wonderful people this way."

Trowa slowly ate his share, thinking, while Quatre munched along happily, letting the silence overtake meaningless babble comfortably.

"That Duo is loud." Trowa commented, breaking the quiet between the two as Duo's voice, again re-telling the fight of the hunters and Trowa's subsequent appearance (already far exaggerated), bounced across the jungle.

Quatre smiled again, fixing his attention back onto Trowa, "I quite like the story, myself" he said. Trowa noticing that Duo was animating Trowa's daring grapple against the cat and his throwing it into the tree. Although Trowa certainly didn't remember having it almost tear his arm off, nor how the one leopard he had fought had multiplied to be three, no four opponents at once.

"Duo's stories are always the best. He never lies, you see, he says right at the beginning that he's telling a story. You can tell how he feels about people. He's making you quite a hero to the younger ones, you know. That's his way of saying thank you for the help. He's making you a legend. He is a very good person." Quatre said and turned a warm smile onto Trowa, his affection for the braided tracker evident.

Trowa felt his stomach tighten, "You would be sad if something happened to him, wouldn't you." Trowa had seen the two of them talking and laughing together, and he remembered it was Duo whom young Quatre had been playing hide and seek with when he got lost and stumbled into Trowa.

Quatre's face tightened; obviously trying not to react too harshly to Trowa's callous words. "I would be very sad, Trowa. He's closer than a brother to me. I would be very sad if something happened to you, too." He answered before Trowa could ask.

Trowa chewed thoughtfully, simple watching Quatre watch the people around the fire. "You should go and join them." Trowa said quietly, realizing that Quatre wanted to go, but was only staying for Trowa's sake.

"Only if you come with me." Quatre answered smoothly, as if he had been waiting for Trowa to ask and had the answer ready. Quatre turned his smile on Trowa, big eyes begging. Trowa never had a chance.

And that was how he found himself around the fire, eating dinner with the people he hated. But as each faceless Winner began to talk, and laugh, and tell about themselves, Trowa gave each a name instead of a Tribe. They were Kale, and Jean, and Sora, not just one of the Traitorous Winner Tribe.

Trowa never said more than a word, sitting himself on a log far from the action. But when Quatre took a spot on the ground in front of him, leaning comfortably against his legs, people flocked to the blonde and soon everyone else moved in and around to hear and tell tales and jokes. A few of the young begged Trowa to tell some tales from his home or his hunts, but he refused each time with a shake of his head.

Heero watched on, his suspicion growing as the outsider declined to say a word about himself yet again.

* * *

Trowa stowed his knife easily and triple checked his armor and tools. Arms was already alert and ready at his side, slinking around him in a loose circle to keep herself moving. He simply had to wait until Heero was ready. Duo and another foreign looking man by the name of Wufei were already ready, hunched down together waiting for their leader. Trowa didn't actually know where Heero was, but figured he was saying goodbye to his wife or some such thing.

So when Heero emerged from Quatre's tent a few minutes later, the boy quietly following him out with a worried expression, Trowa went ridged. If Heero kept being so damn close to Quatre, he may just look forward to slitting his-- Trowa cut that line of thought off quickly. He would later rationalize that it was because he didn't want his expression to give him away, but the truth was that Trowa had never killed anything without a thought since Quatre and the mouse. Trowa had never enjoyed killing, despite his mother's insistence that he should. Enjoying killing Heero would be murder, and Trowa was not a murderer.

Heero motioned to Duo and Wufei and moved out into the forest, Trowa moving to follow behind them. He looked back long enough to see Quatre wave enthusiastically, and mouth "Be safe" to him. The warm feeling in his chest welled up again, seeing Quatre's sunny smile for him and he managed a little raise and twitch of his hand to respond back.

The four trekked through the wilderness for quite a while, Duo the only one really talking, until Duo got hungry and whined to Heero. Trowa was surprised when Heero made the party actually stop for a break. Arms seemed confused too, and began to pace around the area Duo had hunkered down in. If a man in one of Trowa's hunting parties were to demand he stop and then sit himself down right there, Trowa would have growled at his childish behavior and left him. Heero, whom Trowa had figured as the leader, had capitulated at once, going so far as to apologize for pushing the group hard enough to bother Duo. It was mind boggling.

Frustrated at having to stop when Trowa wasn't even beginning to feel tired, he figured he would scan the area and catapulted himself up into a tree to look over. Hearing rusting above and to his left, Trowa turned to see Wufei having the same idea and breaking even with Trowa as they broke the canopy. Trowa felt a surge of ego at the fact that he was quicker than Wufei.

The sight wasn't promising. There was nothing but solid trees as far as his less then stellar vantage point allowed him to see. They would find antelope in the long fields and pastures. In the dense jungle all they would find were other hungry predators.

Trowa dropped down to the ground like a stone, gracefully landing on the ground (as Quatre had been so impressed with, Trowa remembered with hidden delight) before Wufei had even gotten out of the canopy.

Duo blinked, and blinked again, "That was cool. Ever really hurt yourself doing that?" Duo asked from his spot sprawled across an ancient tree's roots and using them like a chair. Heero was busy unwrapping some food that they had brought, since that area of the forest was still relatively close to the village and regularly picked for food.

Trowa saw Duo was going to keep pestering him until he answered so Trowa sighed, "No. I learned in the trees near the Barton keep. They are bare and brittle compared to these. It was easy to learn to avoid the obvious branches and go from there. Quatre was impressed with that, so I worked up to denser trees." Trowa added without really thinking about it.

Duo caught the subtest easy enough, "You practiced that so you could impress Quat, huh? You ain't just acting, trying to get the chief's son to like you. You really are sweet on him, aren't you?" Duo stated.

Trowa narrowed his eyes and quickly shut himself up again. He was embarrassed at being seen right though. Then the rest Duo said began to register: they had already suspected him of acting. Trowa felt his hackles rise even higher. And Quatre was...the Chief's son! He was Amar's child.

Trowa found himself at a loss. Quatre was the blood of the traitorous backstabber himself! How could Quatre be so kind and honest? Trowa knew Quatre wasn't lying or playing him. Quatre had not known who Trowa was or the danger he posed when they first met, so he had no reason to be false. The Quatre now was the same Quatre as before. But... Amar was such a horrible person...how could Quatre be his kin?

Duo continued to try to get Trowa to talk the rest of the afternoon, but Trowa refused to even budge, claming up tighter than when his brothers were near (for Alex and Muller would twist every word you said to fit their needs and personal vendettas). Heero and Wufei still glared at him every time they looked his way, and neither of them spoke to him. There was an unspoken intensity around the group, the air thick with tension and suspicion. Only Duo seemed to want to break the unease, and he was not successful.

They finally made it to the edges of the dense jungle; the grazing fields within sight, but too far for their scent to give away their location. Duo dropped down on the ground and rested (as he had done 3 times more often than any trackers Trowa had ever seen before) and Heero went into the bush to gather branches. When he returned he dropped his bundle at Duo's heels and say down himself, letting Duo make the fire and keep it going. They ate the last of the food brought from the Winner keep, cooked deliciously by Duo, and shared mostly equally (since Heero divided it out again. But Trowa didn't complain. He was used to getting far less portions since the animals in the Barton lands were much scarcer and leaner). But still no one but Duo spared Trowa a kind glance.

* * *

Trowa found himself hazily focusing. The small clearing they had stopped in was only dimly lit by small rays of moonlight filtering through the dense canopy. Trowa felt himself lying on the ground, the fire burned down to embers giving off comforting warmth.

Quatre was standing there, smiling in that way that made Trowa's knees weak and his own lips want to twitch upwards too. He never said anything, just smiled. He was beautiful.

A rustle in the jungle leaves behind the blonde had Trowa's warrior senses jumping. He grabbed out to Quatre, stealing his wrist and pulling him urgently to his side, away from whatever lurked in the trees. Trowa could feel the danger--a lurking, tangible danger that kept creeping up his spine and shivering out of his fingertips.

Quatre gave a whispery moan and fell onto the ground, making Trowa let go of his wrist and focusing his attention onto the blonde.

The place Trowa had grabbed him was black and blue; bruised horribly dark and sick.

He did this. Trowa had hurt Quatre. But it was just an ACCIDENT! His mind screamed, but nothing seemed to make it past his lips. He was constrained by those eyes, Quatre's eyes, Quatre's accusing, screaming eyes! The bruises began to creep higher, growing from the wrists Trowa had touched higher and higher. His whole are was consumed and all the while, Quatre's eyes condemned him!

The rustling in the jungle emerged again, directly behind Quatre's position, pin-wheeled weakly on the dirt, displaying his now bleeding wrists for Trowa to see. Trowa grabbed for him again, pulling him up to stand behind him, desperate to protect him.

Leia emerged from the foliage, her short-cropped red hair matted with blood and adorned with her best warrior headdress. The closer she got to them, the colder he felt. That danger, that sinister danger was rolling off of her. He tried to move, tried to get closer to Quatre, but he could not move his legs! Could not even scream! All he could do was watch!

She smiled.

Trowa whipped his head around to see Alex with one hand viciously sunk into Quatre's left arm while Muller wrenched Quatre with his left. They were both grabbing and groping at his limp body with bestial smirks. They decided together to pull him out towards the jungle, each holding their arm hard and dragging the unresisting body across the dirt. Shadowed by the jungle brush, Trowa could not see what was going on, just angered movements and sinister cackles from his brothers. Trowa tried desperately to go to him, to get there and kill both of them, but he still was frozen, unable to do anything!

A little gasp of pain came from the brush, then nothing.

Leia had come closer to him. She laid a gentle hand at his shoulder and brushed it down his arm, the same path Quatre's hand had taken the other day. Then Leia touched her hand to his chest, right over his heart and leaned in close, whispering into his ear "Good work, my son."

Trowa wrenched his body hard, the force grinding his arms against the ground in fear. His chest heaved so fast and hard he felt that his lungs would burst out and his blood sang in terror through his veins.

"Tro? You awake now?"

A hand came near him.

Trowa slammed his fist into the intruder and roared so that his war call made the very jungle shake in anger. He was in his battle stance, low to the ground as a leopard with his formidable hunting knife at the ready and continuous snarls rolling off his tongue. His chest kept heaving and adrenaline pumped through his system harder and hotter than blood or fire.

Duo flung himself back, scuttling across the dirt with very real terror in his eyes.

Trowa's focus widened, taking in Duo curled up in fear on the dirt, Heero standing at the ready with his own knife, and the light of pre-dawn kissing everything in the clearing with dusty bronze.

But where was Quatre. Trowa quickly dismissed the other warriors and turned to the exact spot in the clearing he had seen his brothers drag the bruised and broken Quatre into. Frantically, Trowa vaulted the short underbrush and wrenched vines and branches out of his way.

There was no sign of Quatre!

There was no sign of Quatre ever being there.

Trowa's chest kept heaving, his arms trembling all over from the residual terror of the dream. It was just a dream.

It was **not** just a dream. It was what would happen if Trowa turned on the Winner tribe. Sure, Trowa may be able to save Quatre, but he would be broken, a mere shell of himself if his entire tribe were killed or subjugated. And his friends...

Trowa turned to glance at Heero and Duo. No, they would never allow themselves to be subservient.

His tribe would never let adversaries as strong as them live. They would all die. They would all have to die.

_"Good work, my son."_ whispered through his head. They would all be murdered, and it would be all his fault.

Trowa ran further into the bushes, only getting a few paces before his legs gave out under him and pitched him down the to brush. Bracing himself from landing face down in the grasses with his shaky arms Trowa's stomach lurched until he purged the acrid contents of his now-empty stomach. His entire body jerked and trembled from the exertion and fear as it rebelled against him again and again.

A figure neared him and Trowa lashed out in his weakness, hissing like a leopard in a clear sign: Stay the hell away. The figure never came any closer then he needed to be noticed, though. "You can come back to camp when you've cleared your head of bad memories" Heero's voice said, and then the figure moved away and left Trowa to his shaky privacy.

Trowa felt the familiar touch of Arms, running her head against his legs and sides to reassure him of her presence.

In her teeth was a canteen of water. Trowa wrapped his arms around her and buried his face into her coat, indulging in her comfort and warmth where no one was watching or judging his love as a weakness to be exploited. Arms rubbed her throat across her human's neck and shoulders, trying to calm the harsh gasps of breath coming out of him. He was as venerable as a kit until he could calm himself, so Arms watched for him.

Trowa took the canteen and drank greedily, noticing after a few long draughts that it was Heero's canteen. But it was too late to be worried about poison, and if Heero was planning to physically harm him he would've done it already.

Trowa ran his hands over Arms some more and began to tighten the strings of bone armor around her ankles, the repetitive motion helping to centre his haywire emotions.

Trowa stood and moved back to camp slowly, Arms at his side every step. The fire had been woken up and was burning hotter that before. Heero was sitting upright, but was pinned to his position by Duo's head cradled in his lap. The braided tracker was fast asleep with one hand loosely encircling the lead hunter and his nose brushing against Heero's stomach.

Trowa flopped down into the spot he had vacated not long ago, all his usual grace gone under the exhaustion from the residual adrenaline rush. Arms curled protectively around her human, laying her head in his lap as well, but keeping her eyes and ears out for danger.

Heero was loosely running his fingers through the tracker's bangs, moving them away from his sleeping face, gentle as a baby. Heero was reclined against a tree, his posture relaxed. Trowa had never seen Heero looked relaxed, at least not during the time Trowa was present.

"I was an assassin." Heero said, still running his fingers through Duo's hair, "I grew up in the Fang tribe, and they wanted the Winner tribe's lands. They sent me in when I was 12. They thought that I was young enough to be underestimated and let into the tribe for pity. Then I was supposed to kill Amar's son and get out. Just a reminder of the power Fang had. It was Quatre, and he had tried so hard to be my friend. Duo...Duo was with him. I couldn't do it. "

"The Winner tribe took me in, despite my treachery, although I lived as an outcast to everyone except Duo and Quatre." Here Heero moved his fingers to brush against Duo's ear, never ceasing his gentle ministrations. "The Fang's were decimated only months later by another bordering tribe that they had 'warned'. Sometimes I can still feel those eyes on me, the Winners that still think of me as an Outsider. Despite all that I do for them, for the tribe, I will always be different from them. But so is Duo, since he's an Outsider too. And so is Quatre, different, because people look up to him so much that no one knows him anymore; just their idea of him. Quatre and Duo are very special to me."

Trowa could not answer, Heero's tale hitting too close to home. On too many levels

Heero locked his eyes on Trowa, really looking at him for the first time, "What do you wish with Quatre?"

"I want him to be my friend." Trowa's tongue said, his brain trying to tell his mouth to stop before he gave away everything, "I want him to be a friend who really sees me, and still wants to be my friend." He whispered, the deeply guarded secret let out into the air for the first time.

Heero let his mouth pull into a small smile, seeing the sincerity in Trowa's words. Heero leant down and dropped a kiss on Duo's forehead, the Tracker waking long enough to turn his head to offer Heero his lips for another kiss.

Trowa felt his heart stop. Seeing, really seeing, Heero and Duo's relationship for the first time.

"I wish you all the best, then, Trowa." Heero said, his eyes moving up to meet Trowa's, "I found Duo. And he's the only thing that matters to me. He is my heart. I hope our happiness onto anyone."

Trowa felt his throat go dry with emotion, the gentle kisses Heero dropped onto his lover to wake him again making Trowa's heart ache. He had never before thought of having Quatre by his side; of being able to drop soft kisses on his blonde hair or dare to touch his lips to Quatre's. But now Trowa yearned for it. He needed Quatre to be his lover, too.

The sun peeked over the horizon, infusing the little red-gold fog with brilliant clarity and warmth. Wufei dropped down from his tree (where he had slept the whole night through, high above their heads) and Duo cooked a delicious breakfast (his talent at the fire far making up for Duo's constant breaks and slaking style), over which most of the tension dissolved (although Duo was incredibly nervous around Trowa now, constantly speaking in soft tones so as not to startle him the least). The group of four emerged from the jungle into the fields, ready to hunt for the tribe.

* * *

Trowa took up the north foliage, his position ready to spear any antelope that fled into the jungle once Wufei made the first strike into the heard. Right now, Wufei was just getting as close as he could, creeping along toe by toe to line up his shot.

"Baby Brother." Trowa heard whispered with a condescending lilt far behind him. He was aware of only one of his brothers nearing him from further in the brush, the other no where close enough to be a threat to Trowa right now. It was Alex that was talking to him though, and Alex was the smarter of the two.

"Mom sent me to check on you and give you a message." Alex said, his voice making obvious his distaste for playing page boy to the warrior 6 years his junior.

Trowa grunted an affirmation, his eyes watching now for Heero, Duo, and Wufei instead of the prey. They could not hear this.

"She said that Yuy is the Adopted son of odin, the warrior who stuck the final knife into Dekim's heart. She wants him alive when she gets there so she can kill him herself." Alex whispered with glee.

Trowa clamped down hard on his emotions so Alex could not read the fear in them.

"When do you want us to in position for the strike? We're waiting!" Alex related, eagerness and disdain at Trowa's apparent dilly-dallying.

"They suspect me too much to allow me anywhere near close enough to Amar right now." Trowa hissed back, turning his eyes from the other 3 hunters to glare at his brother with force.

Alex curled his lip up in distaste, "I knew you wouldn't have the balls to do this job. Mother should have sent me. I wouldn't be spending my time with a little winner whore."

Alex was on the ground within moments, Trowa snarling so hard that spit flew onto his prone brother's dirty face, "Watch your tongue or I will slice it out of your mouth with delight, Alex" Trowa hissed, asserting his power and strength over his Brother. It was like old times, forever snapping and hissing and growling like a bunch of animals instead of asking or caring about the other! Trowa had seen the other side now, and he was desperate to keep the Winner tribe free of Leia's greed and apathy.

Alex growled back and pushed Trowa back far enough that he could stand and walk away, his brother glaring all the way back into the forest and out of sight.

An Antelope careened past him, two spears bobbing out of his haunches bearing the feathers of Wufei and Heero. Trowa took off after it, quickly vaulting anything in his way and using his speed to come upon the wounded animal with bone-breaking intensity to deliver the final blow. Trowa was panting from exertion, and the anxiety of his brother's words, when the other hunters caught up and congratulated him on such a speedy catch. Usually they had to track the damn thing until it died, Duo revealed. Soon two more were bagged in the afternoon, the Winner hunters absolutely astonished at how much easier it was to hunt when Trowa was able to catch up to the prey within minutes and finish it off instead of having to trek across the jungle for hours to find one animal they hoped had been given a deadly hit.

Trowa had gained their respect. Heero and Wufei didn't slink away at the idea of having their backs to him anymore. Trowa was exactly in the spot he had wanted for his mission. But now, he was desperate to find a way to save them all.


	4. Part 4

**To be a King: Part Four**

**FINALE **

_Dentellenoir_  
PG-13; Shonen-ai, Revenge, Tribal-war; 3x4, 1x2

**Summery:** Part 4: Final chapter. The Barton tribe was exiled from there home, forced to live in the bowels of the jungle by the usurping Winner Tribe. But they will get their revenge. The successor of their tribe will grow strong and hard, and he will take back their homeland.

* * *

**PART FOUR**

The second night of the hunt the four set down to bleeding and preparing the four antelope for travel back to the village the next morning, the usual five night trip cut short since they had already gotten the most meat they could handle. As it was they would have to hang two antelope together on the same pole to cart it back across two overtaxed shoulders.

Trowa simply laid down, his back to the fire and the others that night, knowing that if Heero chose to open up to him again that Trowa would spill everything to him. The visit of his brother that afternoon was jarring. He knew he could not betray the Winners, But he could not betray his tribe either. As it was, Trowa took the time to plot his course of action.

He wanted to stay with Quatre, God did he want to, but if he stayed he knew Leia would attack sooner or later. The only way to keep him alive was to leave now, tell his tribe that they were found out, and warn them against ridged resistance should any of them set foot on Winner ground, and hope to hell they were smart enough to back off.

The trip back to the village was far too quick for Trowa's choice. It seemed like they were breaking the underbrush and being met by three of four anxious children before he was even remotely ready. Trowa knew leaving like a thief in the night would break Quatre's heart. But he knew the blonde would try to talk him out of going, alert his tribe, and then when the Barton's finally grew sick of waiting they would attack a fully battle ready Tribe. All of Trowa's tribe would be killed, because all of the tribe would fight, women and children included. Death for his Tribe or Death to the Winner tribe. Either alternative was grave.

The heavy prey was lifted off of the hunter's shoulders by very amazed Winners, all babbling excitedly about the speed and bounty of the hunt. Trowa was praised over and over again, but he heard it all blankly, his mind plotting out his escape and trying to silence the screaming tightness of his heart.

Arms stayed behind the procession for most of the trek, watching their backs fro predators. But she emerged from the jungle too, moving to circle her human and scare off the multitude of well-wishers with a few hisses and yeowls, giving him a chance to leave unnoticed.

Trowa silently made his way to the very edges of the Winner keep and, with a heavy heart for not even saying good bye to Quatre(for he knew if he did, he would not have been able to go through with his plan), he broke through the jungle line and disappeared into the forest.

Trowa got only a few feet before he had to stop, knowing without a doubt that he was being followed by not one, but 4 Winners.

"Why are you leaving?" Quatre's voice whispered, the hurt rolling off the breath of sound.

"Because he's leaving to tell his clan mates to attack. He's a spy!" Wufei snapped, his accusations bouncing off the trees around them.

Duo said nothing, his silence speaking volumes of his feelings of betrayal, and Heero stood stonily beside him, holding his lover back. Trowa knew all this without even having to turn and face them, the people he had come to be close to so ingrained in his head. Trowa couldn't bear to turn.

"Trowa?" Quatre begged, his voice only inches away from Trowa and his hand found a way to land on Trowa's shoulder in a comforting way.

Trowa didn't deserve comfort, he didn't deserve Quatre's compassion. He shrugged Quatre off briskly, his heart shattering as he did.

"You TRAITOR! I can't believe I trusted you, you BASTARD! We TRUSTED YOU!" Duo exploded. He would've taken a swing at Trowa had Heero not held him back tightly.

Frustration boiled and Trowa exploded.

"Why would you do that!" Trowa screamed, his voice cracking under the stress and his carefully painted mask crumbling to leave nothing but a wretched tear-streaked face. "I'm an OUTSIDER! The heir of Dekim! Your tribe KILLED my FATHER and left us to DIE in the wilderness!" Trowa screamed, falling back on old mindsets to clear the emotional turmoil.

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Quatre bellowed, his voice picking up a startling authority and wisdom that Trowa had never seen the boy display. "Dekim was a despotic TYRANT who starved his people and hoarded the riches! Your people CHOSE to leave! Leia and her followers were too haughty to accept being a regular person, she was desperate for power! We tried to get them to stay, but they pushed and pushed and grasped and stole for power until we had to exile them!" Quatre was fuming by the time he was done, his audience rapt.

"That's the real story of Dekim! He treated the everyday hunters and workers like dogs! He stole lands and foods, hoarded our riches and refused to trade with other tribes because he thought his trinkets worth exorbitant amounts! The tribe was dying! He had his hunters go out and pick the trees clean so he cold have feasts every night and let the food spoil for lack of appetite until their was nothing left. It's taken years to fix what his greed and selfishness destroyed!" Quatre finished, his voice clear and factual.

A spear flew past Quatre's face by mere inches, landing so hard in the ground in front of Duo that it swayed viciously with the force.

"You know nothing, you filthy lying little bitch!" Middie, one of Trowa's many cousins, hissed as she aimed another spear straight for him.

Trowa dove for her, grappling the spear from her hands with one mighty heave.

Her appearance so close to the village could mean only one thing!

"Leia has already led our best into the heart of the village! The Winner's best warriors are out here, screaming accusations at you, little Trowa. Leia had you figured the moment she saw your little bitch. You may have come back much earlier than expected, but that won't stop our revenge!" She crowed, her voice bubbling into a hysterical keen.

She was mad. Trowa understood that exact minute how things had turned out this way. He delivered a sharp blow straight to her stomach, taking all her breath away until her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she flopped down to the ground like the dead.

Trowa turned to move back towards the village, and noticed the four of them frozen in shock. "You killed your kin?" Duo gasped, always the first to say something.

Trowa closed his eyes, "She is unconscious. But I will do what needs to be done if things come to that," Trowa vowed.

Heero turned on his heels, unsheathing his dagger and wrenching the other spear from the ground to arm his lover. Quatre too took up a formidable branch, swearing under his breath that he would get his sword proper when they made it to the village!

* * *

It wasn't hard to find the fight.

The Barton tribe was out in full force, the women hurling spears from behind tree trunks and the children ducking through the underbrush to swipe at the Winner warriors. Even though the Winner force was mostly elders and women, they outnumbered the Bartons three to one, although the Barton's viciousness was making up for the lack of numbers

It was ludicrous! There was no way either side could win without completely obliterating the other until the very ground sang with blood.

Trowa took the field with a powerful stride; half the Barton's stopping their attack to cheer their warrior on.

Quatre, Heero, Duo, and Wufei rushed the lines, joining forces with the front line of the Winners. The Winners quickly matched their lead, holding their weapons at the ready, but waiting.

Silvia shrieked, falling down to the ground as Trowa violently wrenched her spear from her hands and held it up to show, "This is MADNESS" Trowa roared, shocking his tribe. "You will all DIE! For what? Revenge of a wrong over 15 years ago! Then what!"

Trowa stalked down the lines, staring into the eyes of each and every one of his kin. "Perhaps you will have your blood," Trowa snarled to his mother's favorite confident, pummeling her with his gaze, "But you will not live to enjoy it! Do you expect to rule a bloodied ghost village!"

Trowa paced down the battle lines again, hitting spears out of hands and kicking rocks away from the terrified children. They had never seen their Prince anything but cold.

Quatre stepped out into the lines, his face turned towards his own people, "We are a strong tribe! We can help these people! Let those that want a peaceful existence come to stay with us!" Quatre pleaded.

The Barton women began to put their spears down, looking with confusion to the person next to them and Trowa in front of them, standing between them and the Winner tribe. It struck Trowa then, how very young most of his tribe was. Trowa was the youngest of the originals, yes, but there had only been 6 women actually alive and adult when Dekim had ruled. 5 of them had died already. His mother was the only one left that had truly lived with Dekim, the rest were brought up with hatred. Nothing but stories and their circumstances to teach them.

"Let us all put down our weapons." Quatre's melodious voice coaxed. Both sides began to lay their spears and knives at rest.

A cackling howl of laughter rang from behind the Winner lines. The flap to Amar's tent was flung open to reveal Leia. Her hair was bloodied and slicked back in her best warrior's headdress, just as Trowa had seen her in his dream. She was just as frightening now as she had been then, and twice as mad.

Following behind her was Alex and Muller, the beaten and bloody body of Amar strung up between them.

Leia stopped, seeing her warriors were not engaged in bloody warfare.

"FATHER" Quatre cried, breaking the ranks to rush towards Amar without a thought for his own security.

Leia lifted her spear and took aim.

Trowa jumped into action, his lighting speed getting his hands around his mother's wrists only seconds before Heero, Duo, and Wufei were tackling her as well for daring to threaten Quatre.

"KILL THEM!" Leia hollered from under the group of warriors, "STRIKE WHILE THEY ARE WEAK!"

The Barton's lifted their spears, the Winners picking their own up in defense. Trowa's hollers were no use as he worked to restrain his mother's wild outburst with force.

The two sides began again, hurling their weapons against the other side with confusion, trying to defend but having no one to lead them.

"STOP THIS!" A shrill no nonsense voice cut across the lines. It was so unexpected that Trowa let go of Leia completely to make sure he was hearing right.

Out in the middle of the melee walked Catherine, her hair the same cropped bright red as Leia's but blowing freely around her without a drop of blood.

"Trowa is right, this is ABSURD!" Catherine bellowed, her voice for once being heard.

She turned to look past the Winners, who opened their ranks for her to pass by. She leveled her glare at Leia, "You want your revenge so badly you will sacrifice the whole tribe for it! That is no revenge at all!" Catherine bellowed.

Trowa was relieved to see nods of approval run through the ranks of both sides.

Leia, no longer being held by Trowa, quickly slipped out of the Wufei's underestimating grip and flew at Catherine in a rage. Silvia and five other girls ran to her rescue, fighting Leia off Catherine while Trowa pulled the women away.

Leia tossed the girls off her easily enough, she was respected and feared because she was the best and strongest hunter in the tribe. She needed a wepon! If none of them would finish off Amar, then she would.

Leia sprinted to the Barton side of the line, trying to break a spear from its grave in the dirt. She wrenched at the end, but did nothing but splinter it. Nothing but a useless foot of branch came off in her hand, but at least it was sharp from the break! Leia flew back towards Amar, as if the watching Winner's would allow her near their king without a fight. Heero and Duo had long since incapacitated Trowa's brothers, giving care of their king over to Iria.

But the Winners never needed to intercept. The Barton tribe did it for them before the mad Queen could even cross the line.

"You led us into suicide!" One shouted, grabbing Leia harshly and spinning her around to face her people.

"You would have your revenge at the cost of our LIVES!" Another shouted, roughly shoving their former leader.

Leia howled in rage and brandished the stick, slicing at them madly and dancing backwards further and further from them, violently jumping forward to strike out and back to safe ground.

She jumped to attack once more, growling like a wild beast at her mutinous tribe. They didn't even fight her back, just moved in closer. Leia threw herself back once more.

And stopped.

A howling scream of pain echoed off the walls of the jungle as blood began to flow. Trowa desperately tried to wade thought the masses to get to her and help, but she was still fighting off imaginary foes, pushing the broken end of the spear deeper and deeper into her back until she stopped altogether.

"Hang her head on a STAKE!" one of the warriors cried, although Trowa did not know if it was a Winner or a Barton.

Something flew through the air, coming to impact on Leia's still warm body. Someone else took up a rock and hurled it, delivering vengeance to the dead war-queen. Trowa feared they would have her strung up in a flurry of hatred if he didn't get there in time, but the mass amounts of people in his way was slowing him, despite his strength.

"Get out of his way!" A strong voice demanded from the Winner line. It was Amar, being held up on one side by Heero and the other by Iria, the healer.

The people froze, looking to their miraculously still-breathing leader. Trowa didn't spare him a glance, pounding his steps through the crowds to make it to her body.

He surveyed the damage and gently set an arm on either side of the spear and lifted her off slow and steady to place her on the blood-stained ground. There was no way she could survive her injury. Trowa had thought she was already dead.

A hand came up to grab his arm, digging in with her nails because her grip was so weak. She looked straight into the eyes of her son. "You are weak! You failed me!" She accused, her waning breath wasted on hatred.

This was what he had been so desperate to please? She was consumed by her hatred until there was nothing left of her. She had never been a mother. She was the one who was weak!

"You are Wrong." Trowa said with conviction, locking onto her still-alert eyes. "I am strong. Stronger than you, because I have learned to surpass my hate. You would sacrifice your people; A good king sacrifices FOR his people. You can move on now, safe in the knowledge that I will take care of our people as they SHOULD HAVE been." Trowa vowed, watching as she hissed and fought for breath.

He couldn't help her. No one could. And soon her breath stopped coming altogether, her body saved from humiliation by the son who she thought failed her.

She may have gone mad, but she was still his mother, and a Queen. She deserved respect. Trowa closed her eyelids and sent up a prayer to god for the cleansing of her soul. It was all he could do. He had said his peace, and meant every word. He would guide his tribe right from now on.

The Barton tribe crowded round Trowa, anxious to hear his orders. He was their king now. Despite wanting to stay with his friends and Quatre, he knew that he could not. i A good King scarified for his people /i , he told himself again. He needed to bring them home.

Trowa hefted Leia's body up into his arms, carrying her like a loving mother should carry her child. "We will go home and mourn for the death of a Queen." He said with confidence, leading his people back to their homeland, all following his step with unwavering loyalty. He would miss Quatre...and the Winners... so much.

But he knew where he needed to be. If he learned anything from Leia it was the danger of selfish pursuits. He knew his duty.

* * *

"Ow!" Trowa heard one of the women hiss. He turned to stop whatever fighting was beginning, and froze.

Quatre was well within the ranks of the Bartons, applying salve and bandages to the warriors as they trekked closer and closer to the Barton keep. Trowa noticed Quatre had healed almost half of the women before he had even noticed his presence. And Arms, instead of taking up stance behind Trowa, as he assumed she had, was instead following Quatre around, bearing Quatre's medicine bag as if she were a packhorse.

No one said an unkind word to him. The tribe took him into their ranks as one of their own within moments. Quatre was not about to leave Trowa to watch his broken little tribe on his own, and Trowa knew that Quatre could help teach them the right ways to do things. Quatre would not leave him. He never would.

That warm feeling of happiness welled up in his stomach again, that same feeling he always felt whenever Quatre was around. But this time he didn't need to worry about being seen, or closing off his emotions. He had learned what was important and what was simply selfishness. Quatre, and Catherine (who was acting like Quatre's nurse and cleaning minor wounds as the blonde instructed) would help change the mind of his people and show them the correct way to live. They all needed to learn to be like Quatre. Himself most of all.

Quatre looked up and caught Trowa's eye. He smiled.

Letting go of the last of his reservations, Trowa smiled back.

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed the ride! This is the end of To Be King! I hope it lived up to the rest of the story and tied up all the ends. I'm sad to see it go. To think this whole thing was a product of one bus ride's whim and Zira's Lullaby on Repeat on my MP3! Some of you were able to guess that the inspiration came from Lion King 2, but I tried to treat the basis of the movie in a REAL way.

For those of you sad to see this end, like lorelai barton (aka ichia) was, you don't need to panic. ichia was good enough to give me a truck full of GW doujinshi! And for it all I promised her an Epilogue for this fic! It may take me a while, BUT there will be an epilogue...sometime...

THANKS FOR READING!


	5. Epilogue

**TO BE A KING: EPILOGUE **

_Dentelle_noir_

3x4. **NC-17.**

**Summery:** After The Barton tribe was exiled from their home, forced to live in the bowels of the jungle by the usurping Winner Tribe, the set out to get their revenge. The successor of their tribe grew strong and hard, and he was sent into the heart of the Winner lands to take back their homeland. But instead, he learned just how wrong they had been living.

Now, after the war, the new King has to pick up the pieces and teach his people how to live like a civilized tribe. But will he be able to learn from the mistakes of his people fast enough to keep the man that he loves at his side?

AN: Dedicated to **twitterpater** who begged and begged and begged for months for this.

To Be King: Epilogue

* * *

They were home, at least. To whatever kind of home there was. Nothing was the same as it was before.

The Fire around the Barton keep was lit again as the remainder of the wounded tribe made it back to their lands. A lot had happened to bring them there... Trowa's mother had been lost in the battle... Many of his sisters were dead... Trowa's brothers had survived, but Alex's arm was badly wounded. He may never be able to use it again, and now? Now Trowa was King.

He had been brought up to be the King, but he had always assumed that his mother would wield the power and he would just, well, sit on the throne when he wasn't hunting or taking care of the people. But it was becoming quite clear to him that it could not be like that. He was needed. He was looked up to.

He wanted to take Quatre to his hut and never leave again, but his people needed Quatre more. The beautiful prince of the Winner tribe was a talented healer, and after the fight he had followed Trowa home, healing his people on the way, and working on the lesser injuries now. Trowa couldn't take him away... plus, his people were hurt, dismayed, hungry, crestfallen, and they were all looking to him to take the lead and bring them into a new era. The pressure was getting to him.

His first act as King was to bury his mother, and then planning took up the rest of his evening. He and a few of the uninjured took a forbidden run into Winner lands to raid the trees and steal some food. He would have to go out on a hunt soon to bring home meat. He was one of the few able bodied warriors still standing. But the people would not like their king leaving. It was the only way, though. Things were not looking bright. And there were expectations on him now.

He wasn't even allowed to sleep in his own damn hut. Accusing eyes had followed him in... He was the King now. If things were to be the same, he was supposed to make his home in the Chief's house; his mother's hut...

Walking in there had been a scary feeling. Nothing was changed, yet he knew that she was gone. And would not be coming back. She was a villain in many people's eyes, but... She had been his mother. He had respect for her that defied explanation. She had never been warm, or particularly loving, but she had shaped him into the man he had become. He should be thankful to her.

He pulled out her bedding and began to put some of her special things inside it. He would tied it up and hide it somewhere until he could deal with the heartache of putting them away. There were so many things, though... Her hair brush, her favourite bone earrings, her many bangles and things. He considered giving some of her jewellery to Quatre, but he just couldn't bear the thought of anyone else wearing them right now. He began to throw more into the pile. Her favourite cooking pot. Her extra shoes. Her vase. The broom. The table ought to go too, so that he's stop thinking of her sitting there eating breakfast in the morning as she told him what his training for that day would entail!

Quatre walked in then, finding him nearly ransacking the house, his face frightening cold but his eyes far away and pained.

He grabbed the other end of the table and held it there, "Taking it away will not make the memory go away," he said kindly, not allowing Trowa to go overboard with this. He knew instinctively that Trowa was very, very upset, even though the Barton King had no idea how to really show it. "It's alright to grieve..."

Trowa let go of the table, turning away from him, trying not to let his pain show. "No, it's not alright. I am King now. I have responsibilities to my people now."

Quatre sighed, smiling a little, and then he was behind Trowa, wrapping his arms around Trowa's waist and putting his head on the taller warrior's shoulder, "Yes, and you have fulfilled those responsibilities enough for tonight. It's time for you to sleep. You are just Trowa now." Quatre whispered into his ear, "...My Trowa?"

Trowa turned at that, smiling warmly, and then he leaned forward, wanting to taste their first kiss. In the throes of war, and the hunt, they had never been able to show each other their passion. He wanted to rectify that now.

Quatre pushed forward first, moving to press his lips against Trowa's softly- gentle, almost shy- but then slowly he deepened the kiss.

Trowa turned around then to wrap his arms around Quatre's middle, feeling the flesh there of the Winner Healer, and pulling him closer to himself. Quatre responded hotly, pressing against Trowa until there was no room between their hearts, and then he kissed him again with more passion behind it. Slowly, Trowa began to forget about being in his mother's hut, and the responsibilities of being King, or about the people outside depending on him. He finally got his deepest, most secret dream. He had been wanting a kiss from Quatre since they had met as children. He had wanted to make him smile. To make him laugh. To make him sigh and moan... To make him his.

Trowa moved a few steps, and then gracefully kneeled down, bringing Quatre with him. The bed was stripped and was nothing more than a pile of straw and twigs, and Trowa would not try to take him on that, so he laid the blonde out on the hut floor. Quatre wasn't protesting though, just sliding his arms up and around Trowa's shoulders to press him close for a hungry kiss and began to roll his hips up against his soon-to-be-lover and let Trowa take control.

Trowa kissed back harder now, slowly sliding a leg between Quatre's legs and urging them open. Quatre complied at first, giving Trowa entrance, but then he pulled back from their kiss a little, looking nervous, "Have you done this before, Trowa?"

What, did his lover think he was some clueless child? He was the King of the Barton Tribe now! He didn't need sex tips. "It's not that hard to figure out that bedding a man will need a little more work, but I think I can figure it out. Men aren't that different from women, and I've got them figured out. I've sure bedded enough of them."

Quatre lifted a brow, a little frown starting to mar his forehead, "Oh really?"

Trowa nodded, sliding his lips down Quatre's neck, sucking and biting and kissing, "I've had many."

"How many." Quatre demanded, his gentle humming voice turning angry and cold.

"...Excuse me?" What in god's name was he all worked up about?

"How many women have you bedded?!" Quatre repeated again, pulling his arms away from Trowa's neck now and pushing Trowa off of him, as if sensing already that he wasn't going to like this answer at all.

Trowa rolled his eyes, "What's it matter? It's just sex."

Oh that was the WRONG answer. Quatre moved out from underneath him like quicksilver, looking angry and slightly hurt. "How many?!"

Trowa sat on his haunches, glaring. How dare he grill him for information as if he were some child! Was it not clear to him? "There are only three males in this tribe, Quatre! You yourself treated many of our children! Figure it out!"

Quatre looked slightly horror struck, "Do you have any children??!"

"Yes, of course. What is the big deal?"

Quatre stood, face turning red in embarrassment and fury, and he fixed his hair, "Oh, there IS a big deal! How dare you! Do you have any concept of living like civilized people? I thought you had the decency to make an honest woman out of your lovers! But apparently I was wrong. Were you ever serious about taking any of them as your wife?"

"Wife?!" Trowa scoffed, standing now too, his pride swelling and his own temper beginning to flare, "I don't need a wife. I don't want a wife! I am a King! I don't need a wife or anyone else telling me what I can and can't do!"

That was also a very bad answer, and Quatre glared hotly, "What about me, Trowa?"

Trowa glared and his mouth worked before his brain got there, "What about you?"

Quatre took a step forward angrily, "What were you planning to do with me after you had me? Were you going to expect me to sit aside as you took others in your bed?"

Trowa was FURIOUS! "A good King sacrifices for his people. I have responsi-"

~SLAP~

Quatre stood there, completely offended and red with fury, hand still outstretched from where he'd struck him. "How. Dare. You! Damn you and your pride! I should have known better than to fall in love with a Barton!" he hissed, turning on his heel and stomping out of the hut.

Naturally all eyes turned to watch him. Every single person around the fire watched him. He had previously looked on all of them as potential friends. Now? He wondered how many of them had been in Trowa's bed before. Which of the children sleeping in their mother's laps were Trowa's. How long would Trowa have slept with Quatre until he discarded him like all his previous lovers?

He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. There were only three men in the tribe. Trowa, Alex, and Muller. There were clearly about a dozen small children running around. He didn't see Alex or Muller with wives either. He shouldn't be so upset... but, he was. He had hoped, when the strong, tall warrior from the mysterious other tribe had just shown up again, and was wearing Quatre's bracelet still... He thought Trowa was in love with him. Well, it was silly wasn't it? Too terribly romantic to be realistic. Things didn't work like that in the Jungle.

He had been totally infatuated. Who wouldn't be? He was obviously just fooling himself.

Arms walked over to him, nudging his arm and then making room for her large head on Quatre's lap, laying down beside him for comfort. She purred a little, and licked at his hand when Quatre turned to pet the Panther. Still, though, Trowa did not emerge from the hut to try and smooth things over. Just a few words from the man he loved, just a few words of devotion, even a lie saying that Trowa hadn't loved the others, or a whispered promise would have been enough to satisfy him. But Trowa had given him nothing. Nothing to show that Quatre's love was returned. In the Winner keep, Trowa had been sweet to him, waiting on him hand and foot and following him around in his quiet way that showed Quatre that he cared. But it was becoming clear to him now that Trowa had no intention of courting him properly. He probably didn't even know what it meant to be devoted to only one!

Catherine came over to Quatre, sitting beside him and frowning, "What's wrong, Quatre?"

She was a very nice woman, and she treated Quatre well. She was 'too kind' the people of the tribe would say, pointing at how thin she was from giving up her small portions of meat. But she was well dressed. She had said to Quatre during their walk back that her clothes had been gifts from Trowa. Quatre had thought it sweet at the time- that Trowa would take care of the weaker tribe members- but now? Things weren't the same now!

Quatre looked at her, trying not to let jealous tears spill, and he glared, "Did you bed Trowa, too? Is that why he was so nice to you?" he accused hotly. "I bet you were his favourite before me."

Understanding dawned in her eyes, and she wrapped her arms around Quatre's shoulder, hugging him tightly. She whispered into his ear, "No, darling. I never did. I wouldn't. Trowa is like my brother. Please give him a chance. He doesn't know any better. Things here are different. No one even remembers what it was like to live as a civilized tribe."

Quatre wiped at his eyes viciously, trying not to show how affected he was. Catherine continued on, "That is why it's so important that you teach him! Teach us. Help us."

At that moment, Trowa emerged from the hut. Quatre took a breath, waiting to see what Trowa had for him now... When instead of any sort of apology, Trowa just walked into his old hut. He stripped the bedding and grabbed some of his things, then walked them back into his mother's hut.

A few minutes later, he made the walk back to his old hut to grab more.

Suddenly, one of the girls from the tribe-Yashra, Silvia's sister- stood, walking over to his old hut and walked in too, even hiking her skirt a little before she did. Right in front of Quatre! And no one even said anything?

Jealousy flared in his heart as the seconds ticked by and she did not walk back out. Slowly it began to eat at him from the inside out. Trowa had wanted Quatre, he had been able to feel how much... Was Yashra in there right now taking care of that for him? Did he really not have any sort of respect for love? Or understand the sanctity of giving over one's body?

Obviously not.

Quatre pushed away from Catherine. He had left his healing supplies and things in her hut, and he retrieved them now. He would not stay for this humiliation a moment more. He was leaving. Now.

He picked up a walking staff and moved towards the barren fields surrounding the Barton keep-the sky was black and the moon barely shone enough to show the way. The animals howled, but he was too angry to care. He knew how to hide. And he knew how to camp. He could make fire. He was not going to spend one more minute with those disgusting people!

Catherine tried to stop him, but he couldn't be reasoned with.

He took to the tall grasses and moved, planning to get as far as the protection of the trees before setting up camp. He could be back home -his home!- in the Winner lands by tomorrow.

* * *

Trowa emerged from his old hut with his hands laden with things, and Yashra behind him was worse off. She was carrying the heavy cooking pans and the clothes and jewellery that Trowa had collected. He planned to get set up in the house, and then... perhaps... Once the blonde calmed down... He could persuade Quatre to come to his bed. He had even managed to rummage up some pretty jewellery to give Quatre as a gift. Catherine used to tell him stories about courting in the old days, and, he remembered something about giving people gifts. Maybe that would work? He felt pretty out of his element, but asking for dating advice from his sister didn't really sound like something a King would do.

But when he emerged it was just to see the furious face of Catherine waiting for him, "You'd better go GET him, Trowa!" She yelled, "He's a sitting duck out there! Thankfully Arms followed him for some protection! He's going to be eaten alive out there alone in the Jungle!"

Trowa's eyes flew around the camp, looking quickly for any signs of Quatre. He was not there. The only faces looking back at him were his Tribe... expecting him to have all the answers and frowning as they saw Trowa beginning to look worried. A worried King was bad for them... And a King being scolded by the healer whom no one particularly liked? That was even worse. Talk was beginning to spread.

Yashra passed by Catherine with a scowl and flipping her hair, "Good riddance to him anyway. We don't need another healer. You're useless enough. He was weaker than YOU, Catherine, and that's saying something. You're lucky that Trowa seems to favour you, or we'd have killed you by now." She went into the King's hut and put down the things she had helped him carry.

Trowa glared after Yashra, but as the weight of her words sunk in, he turned his glare at Catherine, "Don't speak to me like that! You are not favoured by the King. A proper King must favour no one."

Catherine's gaze turned from furious to icy, "You may be King, Trowa Barton, but until you start acting like one, I won't listen to one word. I can see why Quatre left you, if you treated him the way you're treating me!"

Trowa felt his temper flare, but his stomach sunk a little. Left him? Quatre... Quatre left him. No one had ever really left him before, or turned him down. It...hurt.

But Catherine was not done laying into him. She was furious, and let him have it. As much as Trowa had said he didn't favour her, she knew that he wouldn't listen to anyone but her and his own Mother. She had been the only one who was kind to him growing up, and she knew exactly what was going through Trowa's head right now, "That's right. He left you. And I don't blame him for it. I would too if I were him. You're being just like your mother! I thought you were different!"

Those words were worse than the slap that Quatre had delivered. They stung him right to the core. He had often complained about the unfairness, the callous attitude, and the haughty indifference of his mother. He thought that he would be better. A good king did not sacrifice his people, he sacrificed ~for~ his people. He would care about his tribe- not just the whole tribe, but care about each of them individually. And he had already failed in doing that by being cold to the one person who mattered most to him. He was cold to Quatre...

And now the boy was out in the middle of the night with only Trowa's panther for protection. Because Trowa hadn't been able to see past his own attitude and over-sized ego to see how much his callous words had hurt Quatre.

"I have to go after him." He said quietly, moving back into his old hut to grab his arrows and a knife. He knew the tribe wouldn't like him leaving, but who cared. He was sick and tired of letting other people tell him what to do. He had never allowed it before, why should he start now that he was king?

"Damn right!" Catherine growled, stomping her feet to accentuate her point.

The people from the Tribe looked mildly horrified when they saw their King emerge from his hut with his hunting things. He also had Yashra by the ear and pushed her away. She had been practically making herself into his bed while Trowa had been arguing, and it just... Disgusted him. Just like Quatre had said. The words had taken time to really sink in, but they had now and were burning themselves onto his heart and mind. Did they have any decency? Any conception of how to live like a civilized tribe? What kind of legacy was this to leave to the next generation?

Trowa glared at Yashra, and her sister, and his people, "We are BETTER than this!" he growled, "We don't have to live like this anymore! Starving and hating and fighting each other! It will get us nowhere. We can be better than this! There are many tribes out there in the Jungle. We can find husbands- REAL husbands- for anyone who wants one. We can hunt for food enough for everyone to have their fill! We can trade, and work. We don't have to live here, in the worst part of the Jungle, scavenging and scratching for everything. No MORE!"

Having said his peace, Trowa turned on his feet towards the Jungle and took off at a run. Quatre was crap at covering his trail. He couldn't hunt if his life depended on it. Tracking him was child's play, and with Trowa's speed and strength, he found his camp quickly.

* * *

Quatre had begun to build a little fire under the trees when Arms had joined him. He was shocked at first, but thankful to have her there. He wrapped his arms around the panther's neck and buried his face in it to muffle his emotions. He was in the jungle alone, at night, out of his own stubbornness, and if something ate him for his stupidity he deserved it. He had been an idiot to trust Trowa, and an even bigger idiot to launch out into the Jungle by himself.

"Please don't cry..." a voice said softly from the jungle brush.

Quatre startled, looking up to find him. "I...didn't hear you home here." He began to wipe his tears away so that Trowa wouldn't see his weakness. Apparently weakness of any sort was not tolerated in the Barton tribe. He would hate to lose face in front of Trowa again tonight. He may have been angry at the warrior, but that didn't mean that somewhere, deep in his heart, he didn't still care about what he thought of him.

Trowa smiled wryly, walking into the camp, "I walk silently. I'm a very good hunter, and an excellent warrior... But I'm not a very good King."

Petting Arms softly, Quatre didn't exactly jump in to reassure him. He was still angry, and jealous, and not feeling terribly forgiving right now. He wondered if Trowa had stopped to satisfy Yashra before coming after him.

Trowa moved a little closer to Quatre, "I wanted to be a good King, but... I don't really know how. I angered the only people that I cared about. Catherine let me have it, you left me... and even my pet didn't stick around! But the way I was behaving, I don't blame them."

A small smile was finding its way to Quatre's mouth. Trowa had a sarcastic sense of humour. "If that's supposed to be an apology, it's a bad one." Quatre threw at him.

Trowa knelt down a little behind Quatre then, sliding his arms around Quatre's middle then putting his head against Quatre's shoulder, just like Quatre had done to him earlier. "I don't really know how to apologize. I've never really had to do it before. My tribe... we don't know how to live."

Quatre didn't try to shrug him off... He enjoyed Trowa's touches too much. But he was still angry, "What? Yashra didn't satisfy you, so now you've come for a second round with me?"

He deserved that. He knew he did. Especially after what he had said to Quatre.

That didn't mean that his words didn't hurt. Trowa sighed, trying to hold him tighter, "I never touched Yashra. She asked if I needed help, and I put her to work moving my things. When she started getting too comfortable in my bed, I threw her out by the ear."

Quatre stopped fidgeting, but that didn't mean that Trowa was forgiven.

"I lost my temper with the tribe." Trowa said conversationally, getting comfortable now, sitting down behind Quatre and trying to lean him up against his chest, "I told them that we didn't have to live like that. Things are different than how they were before. ...There are lots of tribes all around us, and they can have real husbands of their own if they wanted them."

Quatre sighed, and he began to lean back into Trowa's chest. After a second Quatre spoke clear and pointedly, "'Quatre. I'm sorry. I was stubborn and cold, and mean to you.'"

Trowa frowned, rather confused at the reply, "huh?"

Quatre laughed a little then, that tinkling merry little sound that Trowa remembered so well. "You said you didn't know how to apologize. I'm trying to help you. Now, repeat after me: 'Quatre. I'm sorry. I was stubborn and cold. And was behaving like an egotistical jerk.' You try."

"Quatre. I'm sorry. I was stubborn and cold. And I was behaving like an egotistical jerk." He parroted, "How's that?"

"Nowhere near good enough. That's what you do to open up so you can grovel properly." Quatre informed him with a snarky little grin.

Trowa smiled a little, and put a kiss to Quatre's shoulders, using his hands to slide down his arms.

"Nope. More grovelling needed before you get to do that." Quatre said, shrugging his hands away.

"I don't know how to grovel, then" Trowa admitted with a defeated sigh. He was trying, he really was, but Quatre operated by a whole different set of rules that no one had ever taught Trowa about. People in the Barton tribe didn't give apologies often, and they never involved grovelling or begging or anything.

Quatre sighed, beginning to take pity on his emotionally stunted lover. "Try: 'Quatre. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I don't know what I would do without you. Please forgive me.'" He supplied him with the words.

Trowa kissed the top of Quatre's head, running his hands over Quatre's arms again. He knew that Quatre had said that it was too early for that, but he wasn't good with words. His touches were calming Quatre, so he continued with it.

"Quatre... You- You really are the best thing that's ever happened to me. Without you, I... I don't know what I would do, but I wouldn't be the person I am today without you. Whenever I did something bad, I... I would think that you would not be happy. You... You taught me that killing made people sad; that it was wrong. I didn't feel like that before I met you."

Suddenly Quatre turned in his lap, looking up at Trowa with slight tears in his eyes. Trowa thought that perhaps would be a good time to finish what Quatre had told him to say... "Please forgive me?"

Quatre launched himself into Trowa's arms, burying his face in Trowa's shoulder, hugging him tightly. Then Trowa felt little kisses against his shoulder, then up his neck.

He hoped he was forgiven now. He thought he just might be...especially as Quatre's kisses came higher, and then he pressed a soft, affectionate kiss to Trowa's lips.

Trowa kissed back slowly, trying to imitate the way Quatre kissed him, and that seemed to make Quatre smile and kiss Trowa hotter and deeper. Finally! Trowa had finally managed to please him.

Quatre pulled away, smiling a little, blushing gently.

Trowa went to his satchel, and pulled out a little golden bracelet that he had in his hut. He showed it to Quatre and put it in his hand, "I don't know much about courting like they do in your tribe, but, I thought that a gift might help my chances. This one is something that I bought. I... I didn't want to give you something of my mother's. That's why I went back to my hut. I thought I could make the bed up for you, and clean up the mess I made... give you a gift... and maybe you would forgive me. I hadn't really expected you to leave in the middle of the night to go wandering into the Jungle by yourself."

"I had Arms," Quatre retorted with a hint of wounded pride.

Trowa's lips began to pull up into a smirk, "Catherine told me Arms followed you. You didn't bring her with you. Don't try to lie to me." He teased, running his hands down Quatre's sides. That made the blonde healer laugh at least, and he leaned back against Trowa's chest comfortably, getting closer to the fire. "This is nice... Finally I have you to myself. You're a very hard man to get alone."

Trowa found his hands sliding down Quatre's body a bit more, "Am I? I don't try to be... Not for you anyway."

This time, Trowa didn't need Quatre to supply the words. He thought he knew what Quatre wanted to hear. "I want to be with you, Quatre. Not the others from the tribe. They can find their own husbands from now on.... I will be yours... If you want me, that is."

Quatre's gaze slid up to Trowa's face, trying to judge his sincerity. But Trowa had meant every word. He hadn't just said that so Quatre would favour him again, he said it because he had meant it. He wanted a real relationship. He wanted someone to depend on, and who could depend on him. "I want to make you..." Trowa tried to remember how Quatre had said it earlier, "An 'honest man'."

Quatre blushed hotly, but he looked very pleased anyway. He threw his arms around Trowa's neck, and then he began to kiss him again, slow at first but gaining hunger. Then, Quatre began to press himself closer to Trowa and his happy kiss seemed to slowly turn more passionate. This time there didn't seem to be the hesitation as before.

It helped that Trowa couldn't take his eyes off of Quatre. But this feeling was something different. He didn't hunger for his own pleasure; his head was filled with the sounds of Quatre's little gasps and hums, the feeling of Quatre's body slowly pressing closer to him, and all Trowa could think about was making Quatre moan harder.

And Quatre did, slowly encouraging Trowa on with little groans of delight, even as Trowa took the lead and began to press the blonde Winner down towards the ground. It was so clear to Trowa now the difference between this and their attempted coupling earlier. Trowa hungered for his lips, and for Quatre's touch, and to hear him gasp and moan. This time, when Trowa slid his leg between Quatre's to open them, he surrendered eagerly. Soon, Quatre's legs were finding their way around Trowa's hips to pull him in closer and turn up the heat between them.

Trowa began a slow rocking motion against the blonde's hips, feeling his body reacting to their closeness. The blonde gave him a little shove back, but he did it with a grin. Trowa knelt slightly confused for a moment... Then he saw Quatre shimmy out of his loincloth and then reach for his bag and look for something.

Trowa took the time to follow his lead, tugging the straps of his clothing off and sliding out of them. Quatre handed him a ceramic jar that contained some sort of oil, and Trowa needed a moment to figure that out before he blushed a little at not realizing sooner. He didn't figure that it was terribly kingly to not catch on, but, he slid his fingers inside the jar and put two and two together.

Quatre moved closer to him, kissing his cheek softly, and then he wrapped his arms around Trowa's neck and tugged him down so that Trowa was atop him again. Quatre was blushing, but smirking too. He was still hard, and licking his lips. Trowa found himself grinning back and stealing a hungry kiss.

"Go slow... Maybe use your fingers first?" Quatre suggested. Duo had spilled before on how he and Heero managed to make this part of their relationship work. He hoped that it would help them now.

Trowa nodded, pressing a soft kiss to Quatre's neck and then doing as he had asked for. Trowa put the oil on one finger and slid between Quatre's legs. There was really only one place he could go. It wasn't hard to figure out what he had to do. He didn't know why Quatre was making a big deal about this.

But then Quatre gasped in pain, and Trowa slowed his movements to a still. Trowa looked at the blond worriedly. What had he done? He had never hurt a woman before in coupling...

Quatre gave a slight nod, relaxing his body, "I just... Have to get used to you, that's all. Duo said it would be hard to get used to," He added softly, and touched Trowa's face gently to calm the warrior.

Duo. And Heero. Now that Trowa thought about it, Duo and Heero were lovers, and would have probably had these problems. Trowa had never met another man with a male lover. Quatre had. Perhaps... King or not... in this respect, Trowa had to bow down to Quatre's experience over his own. It was... humbling.

His confidence took a hit. But he continued on. He went slow, using just one finger and moving it slowly in and out of his lover. Quatre's muscles relaxed around him, and a few moments later the blonde was making a little groan- but it was frustration, not the pleasured groan he had hoped to hear, "Give me another. And kiss me or something?"

Trowa gave Quatre a scathing look, but he couldn't seem to keep it for long. He added oil to a second finger, dripping it over his hand, and then slowly pushed it in. Reaching up to kiss him would be awkward, but perhaps he could think of something just as good?

Trowa took his free hand and wrapped it around the shorter man's cock. He began a slow, long stroke and smirked as he watched the blonde. Suddenly, Quatre went from smart-assed and challenging to moaning for more of Trowa's touch.

It sent a thrill up Trowa's spine like nothing he had ever felt before. Sure, Trowa had always enjoyed that first thrust into a new woman that made them gasp, but Quatre's movements seemed to heat him all the way to the core and make his whole body ache to be part of him. Because it was Quatre. His Quatre. And his Quatre was laying back into the dirt of the ground and rolling his hips up to meet Trowa's hand.

It was addicting.

Trowa stroked him a little faster, and Quatre responded with a gasp. He curled up towards Trowa and buried his fingers in the bone-armour that hung from Trowa's neck, grasping it as if to keep himself tethered to the here and now. It was such an erotic sight that Trowa nearly forgot what he was doing. Until Quatre's body began to thrust a little into Trowa's grip and his muscles squeezed against Trowa's fingers hungrily.

Trowa's cock strained at the reminder, and he figured that one more finger ought to be enough. Quatre was very tight, but, Trowa went slow and managed to get three fingers inside of him after a little bit of work. He began with a rocking motion, pushing a little deeper now, making Quatre's muscles adjust to his intrusion as his hand worked against the blonde's cock just enough to make him moan, but not enough to give him any relief.

Perhaps he was being selfish... but Trowa only wanted to make Quatre moan with his cock, and not just his fingers.

Trowa pulled his fingers out as soon as he managed to get Quatre to accommodate him, and the blonde laid there, watching his lover's body in the moonlight, licking his lips in anticipation. Trowa was strong, and muscled, and his cock was hard and leaking in anticipation of Quatre's body.

Quatre wasn't ashamed of the moan that escaped his throat when he saw Trowa aiming inside him. Duo had warned him that it might be uncomfortable at first, but it would feel really good if Trowa hit the right spot (And yes, Duo had told him all of this recently, after meeting Trowa and knowing the blonde would be in this position eventually. Under him. Spread. Hungry. And begging for trowa's touch. Duo could be such a smart-ass sometimes, but, he had made sure to prepare his friend for this circumstance.)

Trowa aimed and pushed in slowly, taking the same care as he had with his fingers. Quatre was his lover, and, as far as Trowa was concerned, he was as good as his Queen. And he deserved the best. He planned to make this good for him, especially after Quatre had put up with Trowa's boorish behaviour earlier. But going slow and gentle was very difficult for him. The first sweet pleasure of entering the beautiful boy was enough to make sweat break out on Trowa's forehead and his breaths turn to deep, hungry pants. All he wanted was to grab his hips and thrust into him like a wild thing, but he managed to stop his baser instincts from taking over. Quatre deserved better than that.

Trowa had planned to take his time, but Quatre had other plans. As soon as Trowa was inside him and his body had loosened to accommodate his lover, Quatre had tugged Trowa down to lay atop him, wrapped his arms around Trowa's neck possessively, and began to push himself onto Trowa's cock with a low moan.

If hot and fast was what Quatre wanted, that was what Quatre would get! Trowa stabilized himself on his hands and knees, and then thrust into him with an unhindered passion, roaring with pleasure and echoing off the jungle walls.

Quatre let out a surprised gasp, then grinned playfully and tossed his head back, "Do that again, Lover!" he urged, bringing his legs up around Trowa's waist and tugging their bodies closer.

Lover? Trowa quite enjoyed the sound of that. He grinned back at Quatre and thrust in again with that dark, hungry growl of pleasure. Quatre's legs tightened and he slid back to meet Trowa's thrusts, moving against the man he loved, wiggling a little on the jungle floor to make this better. He could see that Trowa was thoroughly enjoying himself... but he had sort of hoped that it would be better. Duo would always scream in pleasure when he and Heero were making love. Sure, Trowa's movements weren't exactly hurting him, and he loved to see the always-composed Barton King lose his mask and gasp for more, but he wasn't sure why this was supposed to be all that good. Perhaps it was just something that woman would do for their husbands? He could see that, he supposed. Woman cooked, and cleaned, and put up with children--

"AH!"

Quatre's thoughts were cut off abruptly as the larger man brushed up against something inside Quatre that sent pleasurable tingles all through his body. Suddenly he didn't care about woman's work in the house, all he wanted was to feel that again! He licked his lips and his breath swallowed. He moved more forcefully with Trowa and felt it again, harder this time.

Quatre let out a moan of satisfaction and tensed in his body, rolling his hips up to meet Trowa's thrusts and guide their love making towards the spot that felt so good! Trowa seemed to catch on, and he leaned back a little and grabbed underneath Quatre's ass to keep him lifted a bit, adding his strength to support him.

Suddenly Trowa was hitting it right on every time, and Quatre was losing himself in the pleasure of it, gasping and whimpering for more from his lover. Trowa slammed in faster now, letting out that hungry moan of his that sent shivers up and down Quatre's spine. Oh yes, this was MUCH better than their love making back at the Barton keep. Now they were connected in more ways that simple admiration and infatuation. They now had trust. And mutual understanding, and now they were working towards a common goal.

Quatre knew that Trowa had to be close to completion. The King's breath was uneven and panting as if he was on the harshest of hunts, and his thrusts were fast, and hard, and making Quatre wonder how he was going to walk again even as he screamed for more and dug his fingernails into Trowa's shoulders.

It was no surprise when Trowa buried deep inside him, gasping, and then letting out a ragged moan as he spilled himself inside the blonde. Trowa hovered overtop of his for a moment, catching his breath, and letting out a soft near-purr that sounded vaguely like Quatre's name.

The blonde was charmed, but still panting for more. He ran his hands up into the short hairs at the back of his lover's head and continued to rock into the pleasure for a few more seconds, even as he felt Trowa's cock softening.

It had felt good. But Quatre was still hungry, and reluctant to let Trowa's cock escape. He had felt very nice inside once they had got the hang of this!

Trowa seemed to sense his problem, because he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Quatre's lips, having a soft, open sort of smile on his face like Quatre hadn't seen before. Then mischief had clouded Trowa's eyes...

Quatre let out a gasp of surprised pleasure when Trowa's hand went back around his cock and began stroking him with the same intensity as he had fucked with: Fast and hard and making Quatre see stars!

The blonde arched on the ground and moaned loudly, slamming his body down between Trowa's half-softened member and the hand that was driving him insane. It didn't take long, not when he was already feeling so hot, and Trowa's hand was stroking him so tightly! Quatre gasped in pleasure and thrust up into Trowa's hand, spilling himself white-hot all over Trowa's hand and his own stomach.

The power of his orgasm left him gasping, shaking on the ground with aftershocks of pleasure coursing down his spine.

Trowa pulled out then, moving away from him just long enough to roll beside him and pull him into his arms, kissing down his shoulder and holding him tight. He was smiling. Quatre could feel it against his shoulder.

"Next time, we'll have to remember to do that while we're making love" Trowa remarked with a grin. Quatre blushed, but he had to agree. It had been good.

It had been their first time. Quatre's first time. Trowa's first time with a man. Their first time together.

It hadn't been perfect, but, it was theirs.

Quatre slid his hand into Trowa's and entwined their fingers, snuggling against the warrior. "...I love you, Trowa."

"I love you too, Quatre." Trowa said softly, smiling against Quatre's shoulder still. He wasn't much of a man for words, Quatre supposed, but Trowa was a man of sincerity. And if Trowa said that he loved him, well... Quatre believed him. Even the parts about Trowa wanting to make an honest man out of Quatre.

"No more ladies in your bed?" Quatre had to ask, just to make sure.

Trowa shook his head no, then kissed Quatre's ear and bit on it playfully. "No." He hummed, "Just you. My Queen."

Quatre supposed he should be offended at being called a girls' name, but, he wasn't. Not when he understood the concept behind it. Trowa was taking him on as his official lover. His official second in command. His husband. His co-ruler.

They would have to figure out a better word, but, Quatre liked "queen" fine enough for now. Quatre turned in Trowa's arms to lean in to steal a sweet kiss, and then he pulled away to smile at him warm and lovingly.

With that, Trowa knew he was finally forgiven. He ran his fingers through Quatre's hair and watched him carefully for his reaction. "Tomorrow, we can go home?"

Quatre thought about that, touching Trowa's arms gently... tracing the lines of war paint on them and feeling the strong muscles holding him. "Yeah? Home... I guess. As long as it's with you, I can call that home."

That was a good enough answer for him, for now anyway. He would just have to prove to Quatre just how good a home Trowa could make for him. And he would. His first order of business would be to start building a hut for him and Quatre to share. And he didn't care what the tribe had to say about that, either.

This wasn't about his mother's legacy. And it wasn't about being royalty. This was about him and Quatre and them starting a new life. Together.

His tribe might be wounded, and broken, and lost. But now Trowa had Quatre. And he had faith in Quatre's ability to teach them. To help them. To heal them. And to change them. Because already, Quatre had changed Trowa's heart.

And now that he had felt what things could be like with Quatre, he never wanted things to go back to the way they were before.

And with Trowa as King, and Quatre as his second in command he was sure that things would never be the same again.

* * *

END


End file.
